


Wish You Well

by Charlie Rose (Night_Owl6)



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cannon Divergence, Fillory (The Magicians), Fixing Fillory, Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Eliot Waugh, Quests, War, endgame queliot, quentin centric, season 2 divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-11-07 19:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 69,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17966408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night_Owl6/pseuds/Charlie%20Rose
Summary: Even after defeating the Beast, their troubles are far from over.  Quentin, along with Eliot and Margo, must face multiple challenges such as trying to save a crumbling kingdom, enemies coming from seemingly all sides, and fixing a broken wellspring.  Will they be able to do it or will it be the end of Fillory and life as they know it?(Chapters 1-15 have been edited as of 10/20/2019)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This story is going to be set primarily in season 2 Fillory with references to things from season 3. I loved Fillory and wished they did more with the world. However though there will be some cannon scenes, they are going to be out of order/greatly altered to fit with my story line. For instance, in this story Alice dies completely and doesn't turn into a niffin. 
> 
> The first two chapters follow the episode "The Flying Forest" very closely in regards to the Quentin parts, but will break away afterward. Hope you enjoy. :)
> 
> Edited: 9/28/2019

Time slowed down.

What happened next was so absolutely devastating, it would haunt Quentin for the rest of his life. Quentin wanted nothing more than for time to go faster, to save Alice from the excruciating torture. Instead, it fucking slowed down. Figures.

It felt like hours had past as Quentin watched helplessly while the blue flames consumed Alice’s whole body, burning her from the inside out. Her blood-curdling screams pierced the air and echoed into the forest, ringing with agony.

And then, just as quick as it started, she was gone.

Quentin stared at the spot where she vanished, desperately wishing that all this was some fucked up nightmare and he would wake up and she would still be alive.

A manic laugh filled the air reminding him that the battle was not over yet. Pain gripped his heart as he realized it was all for nothing, the Beast was still alive. “Oops too far, too bad. Let’s finally finish this.” Martin cruelly mocked Alice’s heroic attempt to save them all.

Quentin struggled to his knees, refusing to let this asshole win without one last fight. The motion jarred his injury and he grimaced in pain, his left arm hanging limp at his side. He couldn’t believe that the monster in front of him was Martin Chatwin, the guy he once worshiped and wished to be like. Not anymore. If Quentin had use of his arms, he would tear Martin apart with his bare hands piece by piece.

Martin raised his arm ready to deliver the final blow, when a pale hand stopped him. “I did it on purpose.” Alice whispered into Martin’s ear, her cold tone carried in the dead silence of the forest.

When Alice suddenly appeared out of thin air Quentin’s heart stopped, but the subtle blue flames licking her skin hinted at something amiss. He watched her taunt Martin callously and realized this wasn’t his Alice. No, his Alice wouldn’t be so cold and sadistic. He felt a small glimmer of pleasure upon hearing Martin begging for mercy, but that turned quickly to horror as Alice ripped open his chest. She stared dispassionately at the cloud of moths that burst out of his body. A withered shell of a man fell onto the ground, staring unseeingly, his face screwed up in pain.

“Disappointing.” Alice sneered before turning to Quentin. “Your turn.”

She walked closer to him a predatory and calculating look on her face, one that he had never seen before. It was as though she was trying to figure out how best to dismember him and draw out his death to make it as painful as possible. This being wasn’t the woman he once loved. Flames like the one that killed Alice, bloomed in her palms and he gulped. Looking up Quentin stared into her blue eyes, but they held none of the warmth and familiarity that used to be there. This was all his fault, he did this to her, turned her into a monster worse than the Beast. He closed his eyes ready to accept his death.

“Alice!” Margo’s voice cried out in desperation.

Quentin’s eyes popped open, he didn’t realize Margo and Eliot were there with him. Alice turned her back on Quentin and began stalking toward Eliot and Margo. ‘ _No no no no no_.’ He started to hyperventilate, he couldn’t lose everyone he cared about in one day, that would destroy him.

“Alice!!” he called out trying to distract her, but it didn’t work. She barely spared him a glance before turning her attention to the two magicians. Eliot and Margo cowered back as they pleaded with Alice not to hurt them, but she wasn’t listening. The niffin had complete control over what was once their friend, and it was hungry for blood.

Quentin needed to act fast, if he didn’t Margo and Eliot would surely experience a grisly death at the hands of Alice. His head was split in two directions because he needed to choose between saving the woman he loved or the two that had been with him since the beginning. It wasn’t a difficult decision to make in the end. That wasn’t Alice, not anymore.

“Quentin says go free.” A burning pressure built up in his back, heating his spine as the cacodemon ripped its way from its fleshy prison. Quentin gasped for air, his body shaking in pain and hoped it would be enough.

He looked up and watched as the ashy form of the demon flung itself at Alice. The two collided in a great fiery explosion that blasted everyone back a few feet. All he saw was white and after one more blood curdling scream, everything was silent.

Quentin blinked the black spots out of his vision and turned his head. He saw Alice’s body laying in the dirt, smoke coming off her body and the ground surrounding her. The acrid smell of something burning and sharp ozone filled the air. Dragging his useless arm behind him, he dug his elbow and knees into the dirt trying to crawl toward Alice. His shirt was soaked with blood that poured out of his open wound at an alarming rate.

“Q stop you’re hurt!” Margo said her voice shaking but Quentin ignored her, too focused on getting to Alice.

Arms curled around his body, fearing it was the Beast that somehow managed to come back to kill him, he started thrashing about trying to escape.

“You need to stop.” A soothing voice breathed into his ear. Quentin recognized Eliot’s voice and the restricting hold became a comfort instead of a threat.

“She might be…” Quentin’s voice cracked. His mind refused to believe what was in front of him. He clung to the desperate wish that any moment her chest would begin rising and falling and she would wake up in time to tell them what to do next.

Eliot kissed his head. "Q...she's gone." Eliot's own voice shook as tears filled his eyes. After all the horrors they'd just experienced, that simple gesture completely undid Quentin. Howling in grief he broke down and gripped onto Eliot with his good arm. Eliot held onto him tighter and his tears dripped onto Quentin’s face, mingling with Quentin’s own tears as they fell to the ground. Margo placed a hand on Quentin’s leg, offering her own support. A quick look showed she too had tears falling down her face silently, eyes flickering between Alice and his bloody shoulder.

Shivering, the injuries Quentin had sustained begun to make themselves known. “I’m cold.” The world around him got blurrier and his head felt woozy. The throbbing pain in his shoulder, he’d been trying to ignore, started to become numb and pins and needles shot down his left arm. Quentin was pretty sure that wasn’t a good sign." 

“No Q, come on stay awake! You have to stay awake.” Eliot screamed shaking Quentin to keep the younger magician conscious. Quentin turned his head to look up at Eliot, his eyelids heavy. His breathing became shallow and the edges of his vision began to blacken. It was all too much, and the younger man gave into the comforting abyss of darkness.

Quentin drifted in and out of consciousness, catching little snips of the life that passed on around him. A strange tugging on his shoulder, brought him closest to the surface. He must have let out a discomforted whimper because soon after the area went numb and he sunk down once more.

He could hear Eliot’s warm tenor voice and Margo’s demanding tone arguing with someone, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. At one point, he felt a hand gripped on to his and heard a voice begging for him to squeeze back. He tried but he couldn’t muster the strength to squeeze it, he fell back into the darkness and when he woke up the hand was gone once more. Through it all Quentin had the distinct feeling that there was something missing, something important that he was forgetting, but he couldn’t figure out what.

Fluttering his eyes open, he squinted into the brightness until his eyes got readjusted to the light. He looked up and saw forest trees towering over him. A warm summer breeze blew across his body and the sound of birds chirped in the background. Unsure of where he was or how he got there, he glanced around at the makeshift walls made of canvas material that gently swayed in the wind.

“Be careful—that is a long drop for human legs. We would hate to see you get hurt so soon after you’ve been rebuilt.” A woman came into view and smiled at Quentin, casting a few diagnostic scans.

“Rebuilt?” Quentin questioned and she merely nodded toward Quentin’s shoulder.

Quentin glanced down and noticed for the first time that he was wearing some kind of jumpsuit made of light material. Trailing his eyes toward his shoulder he was shocked to see most of his shoulder and upper arm were now gone. In its place a piece of wood covered the area where his skin and muscle use to be. He flexed his arm, but he could feel no sensation there. His mind felt fuzzy as he tried to remember what had happened to him.

“It’s strange but you’ll get use to it.” She said kindly.

Shaking his head lightly to clear his thoughts, he tried to piece together where he was. “Is this a hospital…are you a doctor?”

“My name is Isao. I’m a nurse here at the Retreat, a healing sanctuary run by the Centaurs. It’s a few galops north of Whitespire.” She pulled back the sleeve covering his new arm, checking the healing progress. She hummed in satisfaction and handed him a small vial of healing potion, watching as he obediently swallowed its contents.

“The Centaurs.” Quentin said in disbelief. Fillory that’s right, he was in Fillory. “How long have I been out?”

“You’ve been in a healing sleep for 3 weeks; your injuries were severe. Your friends were called away, but they left that for you.” Isao pointed to a wooden box on the table behind him. “We can start physical therapy in the morning.” Casting one last diagnostic spell, she hustled out of his makeshift room to check on her other patients.

Quentin gently hopped off the platform he’d been laying on and walked over to the table. A sturdy piece of parchment was folded on top of the box with an elaborately written Q on the front. Opening the letter, he easily recognized Eliot’s handwriting.

“ _Dear Q, we buried Alice in the gardens where she’ll always be close by. We left a box of her things if you ever wake up… **please wake up**. Your benevolent overlord, High King Eliot.”_

In a blink of an eye, his memories flashed across his mind and his breath hitched in his throat. His knees buckled and he gripped onto the table to keep himself from collapsing to the ground. “Alice is gone. Fuck.”

The thought echoed into his head. It felt like his heart had been torn out leaving behind an empty hollow cavern. Waves of guilt and grief crashed over his head, and he could hardly breathe, his lungs protested from the lack of air. Blue flames burned bright in his memory and her screams, ‘ _fuck her screams’_ , rang in his head plaguing him forever.

He bit his lip hard to keep his cries from escaping and disturbing anyone else at the Retreat. The metallic taste of blood hit his tongue, indicating that he broke through the delicate skin covering his lips.

Quentin tormented himself picturing her death over and over, wondering if there was anything he could have done to change the outcome. They were supposed to defeat the Beast and rule Fillory together. Now she was six feet under and there was nothing that he can do to change that. Quentin cried over the box he couldn’t bring himself to open.‘ _I should have been the one to die not her._ ’ 

Someone awkwardly cleared their throat behind him, and Quentin whipped around still on edge from the attack.

“Hey. Margo sent me to get my hands checked out.” Penny looked away giving Quentin enough time to dry the tears from his face. “Look it sucks about Alice.” Sincerity clear in his tone.

“Sucks…that’s the best you can do.” Quentin replied angrily.

Penny could sense the other man’s heartbreak and pushed down his usual urge to punch him in the face. “I cared about her too.”

Quentin scoffed. “I bet you did.” Images of Penny and Alice together whirled around in his head, creating a perfect storm of anger and grief.

“I don’t know what your problem is Coldwater. It was your cacodemon that killed her.” Penny shouted, his anger getting the best of him.

“That wasn’t Alice…Alice is gone.” Quentin took a few deep breaths, he refused to break down in front of Penny.

“So you just saved the day huh…” A flash of pain darted across Quentin’s face, and all the anger was sucked out of Penny. He felt like an utter dick for throwing that accusation at Quentin.

Quentin wrapped his arm around himself and took a step back, looking away from Penny. “Please,” his voice croaked. “Just go away…”

“Nice to see you too man…” Penny walked off, turning behind briefly only to see Quentin burry his face in his hands to muffle his sobbing. “Fuck.” Penny muttered to himself, sighing and turning to find someone who could help him with his hands.

Quentin opened up the box, barely able to see through the tears that poured down his face. Nestled into the box were a few of Alice’s things she brought along with her to Fillory. Pulling out her necklace, he remembered all the times she would play with the pendant while they were studying or just hanging out. It was one of the few nervous habits she had. Wrapping the chain around his wrist, Quentin kissed the cool metal of the pendant wishing it was her.

Quentin crawled back onto the bed and curled onto his good side. The day passed by and the nurse came back a few more times to check on him and tried in vain to coax him into eating or drinking some water. He felt the familiar tingle of her magic sweeping over him for her diagnostic tests. She wrote something onto his chart and left him alone once more.

Night soon arrived, shrouding them in darkness and once more Isao returned to light the lamps. She pulled him off the bed with a surprising amount of strength and settled him in front of the fire. He stared into the flames, but all he could see were glimmers of blue flames that sent fresh waves of pain to his heart.

After an indeterminate amount of time, a prickling sensation swept over Quentin warning him that someone was watching him. Scanning his surroundings, he noticed a strange woman staring at him from between the trees. He blinked once and rubbed his eyes, but when he turned back she was no longer there.

Isao bustled back over to him carrying a tray of supplies, startling him from his thoughts. “Um I just saw a woman. She was all white and I think she had horns on her head.”

“You were blessed by seeing the White Lady, how fortunate!” Isao gasped in amazement. Picking up a small bowl she dipped a brush into it and spread a thick paste over his wooden shoulder. The paste was a deep blue color and smelt faintly of vinegar, but it swiftly changed color and blended in with his natural skin tone.

“Is that…skin?” Quentin reached up a hand to poke at the appendage, but Isao gently slapped his hand away giving him a stern look.

“Yes. It won’t help you feel but it might help you forget.”

Quentin swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. “Nothing will help me forget.”

Isao paused and gripped onto his forearm, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry for your loss my King.”

“She would have asked you a million questions about my arm and every procedure you performed on me.” Quentin said voice thick with grief. Quentin glanced up to the sky as more tears welled up in his eyes, you’d think he’d be out of tears by now. He cleared his throat and sniffled.

Running out of paste, the nurse handed him a tissue and a glass of water. Isao cleaned up her supplies and walked away, giving Quentin a moment to himself. Coming back, she placed a tray of fruits and bread in front of him. “Try to eat something. You’ll need your strength for tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” He said sincerely, grateful for her tender care.

He tried eating the fruits, but they tasted like chalk and ash. Pushing the tray away, he sighed and pulled out Eliot’s letter from his pocket, brushing his fingers over the smooth parchment. Quentin could imagine Eliot writing this note with an elaborate quill while he sat by his bedside. Staring off into the night sky, he wondered what Eliot and Margo were up to in this strange land and if they were handling everything alright. He missed them.

The sound of angry cursing distracted him as Penny came over holding his arms out at a strange angle. “Coldwater!”

Quentin sat up straighter, staring at Penny’s arms. “What the fuck happened?!”

“My hands tried to kill me, so I broke my arms.” Penny couldn’t believe his life had come to this. His hands were fucked up again, and now he had to rely on Quentin of all people to help him out.

“The water from Chatwin’s Torrent should have worked.” Quentin thought back to the books, nowhere did it say the water’s effect could wear off.

“It did, but that asshole river watcher must've cursed me or some shit.” Penny scowled.

“I don’t know what you want me to do. I can call the nurse if you need.” Quentin was still pissed off at Penny from earlier.

Swallowing his pride, Penny tried a different approach. “You have to help me. I’m sorry about all the mean shit I said before.”

“Yeah well…” Quentin trailed off and sighed. He was tired of being sad and crying. “What do you need.”

“First things first we need to find an axe.”

They found an axe easily enough, but the next part was a bit trickier. Well not trickier just incredibly stupid. Since Penny obviously couldn’t do magic or use his hands at the moment it was up to Quentin.

Carefully, as to not wake anyone up, he broke into the centaurs sleeping quarters and stole a bottle of their centaurian alcohol hidden in a cabinet. The quarters were made for centaurs, therefore Quentin needed to cast a levitation spell to reach the tall shelf. Alcohol in hand, he dashed out of their quarters and hiked the small distance to where Penny was waiting for him.

Drinking straight from the bottle, Penny soon became drunk off his ass thanks to the strong alcohol. Using a length of rope they found, Quentin tied Penny’s hands to a log. “Are you sure about this? This doesn’t seem like a very thought out plan.”

“Yeah well it’s the best we’ve got.” Penny remarked drawing on the liquid courage coursing in his veins to get him through this next part.

Quentin took a swig of the booze himself, his hands shaking as what he was about to do hit him. Taking a deep breath, Quentin brought the axe down only to stop halfway through. “Nope!” He called out, pacing back and forth.

“Fuck Quentin just do it!” Penny shouted, he wanted this over with and Quentin’s stalling wasn’t helping anyone.

“Sorry I panicked, I don’t love blood!!”

“Who loves blood!?!” If he wasn’t tied to a fucking log, Penny would get up and have a swing at Quentin with the damn axe. After all it wasn’t his hands that were being chopped off. Again.

Quentin shook his head. “I don’t think I can do it.”

“You’re pathetic…you-you floppy haired limped dick dork no wonder Alice couldn’t get off with you…” Penny fumed trying to goad Quentin into doing it.

Filled with a renewed anger Quentin brought the axe down in one swift move, chopping off Penny’s hand. They watched horrified as the severed hand twitched once before falling still.

“Fuck I felt that!” Penny screamed in agony.

Quentin fought back the nausea and scampered to the other side of the log and quickly swung the axe down several more times. In his panic, he missed the remaining limb the first few tries. Their jumpsuits were soon spattered with blood, looking like a scene from a bad horror film.

“AAHHH!!! I’m sorry-I’m sorry-I’m sorry!” Quentin shrieked, apologizing repeatedly.

Penny quickly passed out, once again handless, from the pain and the sight of his mangled hands. Quentin stared wildly around and groaned when he realized there was no one there to help but him.

“Shit.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, this chapter will follow very closely with the episode "The Flying Forward" but will deviate from cannon events after that.
> 
> Edited: 9/28/2019

“Thanks for helping last night.” Quentin sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, sending Isao an apologetic smile. It was late the next morning and Isao had just arrived to check on him after having slept in herself.

“Yes well, when the monitoring charms I put on you started going crazy I knew I had to find you. When I finally did, I couldn’t just do nothing upon seeing your friend bleeding out after the idiot stunt you two pulled trying to rid him of the curse. Curl your hand into a fist.” Isao ordered sending him a reproachful frown.

Quentin winced struggling with the simple task, his muscles were stiff due to his injured shoulder. “How is Penny?”

“He lost a lot of blood, but he’ll live.” Isao cast her usual array of diagnostic charms and wrote her findings on her ever-present clipboard. “Now time to begin physical therapy.”

Isao guided Quentin through several exercises to get him familiar with the piece of wood masquerading as his upper arm muscles. It didn’t hurt him, but the distinct lack of sensation between his shoulder and elbow was bizarre to say the least. When she told him to lift his arm above his head, Quentin scoffed at the simple task, but not even five minutes later he was sweating like he ran ten miles.

“Alright that’s enough of your warm up, let’s begin.” Isao laughed brightly when Quentin groaned in protest.

They spent the rest of the afternoon running through different workouts, each one getting easier and easier as his body adjusted. Isao gradually introduced assorted weights to the mix, testing to see if the arm could hold the added mass. Rather than just work on his left arm, both arms were engaged in the drills which allowed Quentin to feel the difference between the two arms. After every exercise, Isao stopped to run her own tests and check he wasn’t over exerting his arm.

The exercises were grueling, but Isao pushed Quentin and encouraged him to finish each one. Finally, after one more set, Isao graciously allowed him to take a quick break. He collapsed onto a chair trying to catch his breath, it was like high school gym class all over again.

Isao handed him a wet cloth to cool down and wipe the sweat from his face. She then took out a jar filled with a thick paste and began applying it to his shoulder over the artificial skin. “This cream will help keep the wood pliant, so it moves naturally with your own movements and also ensures your body doesn’t reject it later on.”

Quentin nodded, the cream felt cool and soothed his sore muscles. “Have you always wanted to be a nurse?” He asked out of curiosity.

“No," She smiled ruefully. "I grew up in a small town a few days journey from the castle. One day, during a routine hunt, I got gravely injured. The centaurs saved my life. In turn I asked if I could apprentice with them and help others the way they helped me.” Isao gently sighed and continued to rub the cream into his arm.

In the daylight Quentin could better see how see how ingenious the paste for his artificial skin was. If you didn’t know that it was artificial, you would never be able to tell even from touching it.

“Have you always wanted to be a King?” Isao questioned.

Quentin pursed his lips and considered the question. “No not really, but then again I didn’t even know this place existed until recently.”

“Yes, well fate works in mysterious ways.” She wiped her hands on a cloth and pulled Quentin to his feet. “Time to continue.”

She led him to a small clearing in the woods where wooden tables were set up, each holding a different item. “Now time for your physical therapy for your magic.”

Quentin was confused as to why he needed physical therapy for his magic, especially when it wasn’t his dominant hand that got injured. “My magic? But I mostly cast with my right hand.”

“Yes, but you use both hands for certain spells. Besides, becoming adept at casting with both hands will make you a better magician with more control.” She stopped in front of a table that held a single white feather. “Lift it.”

Using his opposite hand, the finger movements felt awkward and his magic sluggish. The feather refused to move, it was as though it was a hundred-pound weight he was lifting. Frustrated Quentin huffed and glared at the feather. “Why is this so difficult? I could do this spell in my sleep.”

“Your magic has to get use to passing through the new material. Don’t force it. You need to accept it is as much a part of you as anything else now.” Isao patiently explained to Quentin. She went through a similar problem when she was a patient herself and knew how aggravating it could be.

Quentin sighed and got to work. He closed his eyes and visualized his magic flowing through his arm the way it did before. His efforts paid off when the feather rose up slowly into the air. He used his magic on and off with both hands, for comparison, and he was soon able to lift small stack of books. Just for fun, he used both hands and attempted to lift two separate objects, with varying degrees of success.

“Excellent!” Isao applauded. “You are completely done for the day. I’ll send a list of exercises and potions that will help you further improve your arm function and magical abilities. It is important you continue to follow my instructions. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Quentin was just about to say no and go back to the retreat and rest a while, when a thought crossed his mind. “Actually, yes there is something. Do you know how to use a bow and arrow?”

 Isao furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.“Of course, but what does that—”

“I need you to teach me. Please,” Quentin requested.

She gave Quentin a searching look but consented. Walking back in the direction of the retreat, they veered right and stepped into another clearing, this time lined with targets. “This is where the centaurs practice archery in their time off.”

Isao picked up a bow and arrow and demonstrated the basic skills of archery such as the proper stance and way to grip the bow, how to properly nock an arrow, and how to shoot. Her movements were so fluid, Quentin underestimated how difficult it was. Several of his arrows landed in the woods well beyond the target, and the one time he managed to hit it, it was one of the very outer rings.

He kept at it though, long after Isao went back to check on her other patients. Remarkably, he was somehow getting worse the longer he practiced. His thoughts were becoming more self-deprecating, and it shouldn’t have surprised him when Penny stormed into the clearing. He complained that Quentin’s thoughts were too loud and annoying to deal with anymore.

“I’ll redo my wards…” Quentin said irritably, firing another arrow.

Unable to watch him miss one more time Penny, in an act of selfish altruism, taught Quentin a charm to help his nonexistent archery skills. Quentin performed the charm several times, hitting nothing but bullseyes when Penny had to ask. “Why are you doing this?”

Quentin debated if he should tell Penny a lie, but ultimately decided it would be beneficial to be honest. “I want to hunt the White Lady. She is one of the seven questing creatures of Fillory usually found in the Darling Woods, just beyond the Flying Forest. We could hunt her together.”

“You want to hunt the white lady? People like me get shot for saying shit like that.” Penny laughed humorlessly.

“If you catch her, she has to grant you a wish. She can probably fix your hands.” Quentin knew that this angle would convince Penny to join his quest. By looking at the gleam in Penny’s eye he knew he was right.

“Let’s go hunting.” Penny glanced down at his wrists wrapped in bandages. “What’s in it for you?”

Quentin looked at Penny with an unreadable look on his face. “I’m going to ask her to bring Alice back to life.”

The two packed up a few necessities and their meager belongings, shoving them into Quentin’s messenger bag Eliot and Margo left behind for him. Quentin left a goodbye note for Isao, thanking her for all she had done. Picking up Alice’s necklace he wrapped it around his left wrist, collected his borrowed bow, and shucked a quiver onto his back.

In order to succeed in this mini quest and not kill each other in the process, Penny and Quentin decided to keep the talking down to a minimum. They traveled through the forest, using the Fillory books as their guide.

“So, the river we just crossed was at the edge of it, so we are in the flying forest.” Quentin said breaking the silence.

“It's kinda underwhelming you know, looks just like any other fucking forest.” Penny sneered unimpressed, but as they walked deeper into the forest his face relaxed as he breathed in the fog. “Do you smell that? It smells good…what is that? It smells like chocolate.”

Quentin breathed in deeply through his nose. To him the forest smelt strongly of the summer air, peaches and plums, a hint of Alice’s perfume, and something that distinctly reminded him of Eliot. It was intoxicating…literally intoxicating.

“I think I’m getting a contact high.” Penny commented with a goofy smile on his face.

“Yeah…definitely starting to feel something.” Quentin giggled as the toxins in the air affected his brain.

Their worries melted away and they forgot why they were in the forest to begin with. “Listen Quincy.” Penny glanced at Quentin, his words slurring.

“Did you just call me Quincy?” Quentin laughed so hard, he almost fell over tripping over his own feet.

Their journey continued while they unknowingly traveled in a giant loop keeping them trapped in the forest. After some time, and several more loops around the same path, Quentin stepped on something, halting their progress.

He bent over and picked up something shiny in the dirt. “Look a necklace! It must belong to a woman, maybe I’m supposed to rescue her.”

With a renewed sense of urgency, Quentin bounded away, leaving Penny behind to jog after him. He came across a fork in the road and Quentin decided to travel down the less traveled path. 

Breaking free of the forest, they came to a stop at the edge of an open field. Slowly the effects of the Flying Forest wore off, bringing them back to reality. Quentin took one look at the necklace in his hand and realized who it actually belonged to. He slowly slid to the floor and tears welled up in his eyes.

Penny watched from a distance, his own high reducing more slowly, and felt sympathy for the younger magician. He approached Quentin cautiously, crouching down next to the heartbroken man. “Quentin look I know how you feel man…” He sighed deeply, he rested his arm on Quentin’s shoulder. “Before when your wards were slipping…I know.”

Penny could feel the younger man shaking, and when Quentin looked up at him, he was taken back by the vulnerability he exuded. “I can’t.” Quentin spoke barely above a whisper.

When Penny felt Quentin’s wards slip earlier, it was like a sucker punch to the gut as all of Quentin’s emotions slammed into him from a quarter mile away. He didn’t think it was possible to feel so many emotions that strongly but leave it to Coldwater. Penny thought Quentin looked even younger than he actually was and made his voice as gentle as possible. “You can’t puss out right now. Think about Alice, she needs you man. I need you.”

Quentin sucked in a shuttering breath and nodded, pulling himself together. He knew how hard it was for Penny to come out and say that he needed help. He wouldn’t let another person down. “Thanks Penny.”

“Don’t mention it.” Penny did his best to help Quentin to his feet, awkwardly patting him on the back with his handless arm. “Seriously don’t mention it.” Quentin saw Penny smirking and let out a small watery laugh. After taking a deep breath of unpolluted air, they continued on.

They had been walking around for hours without any luck, not even the slightest hint that the White Lady could be in the area. The moon was high in the sky, filtering through the branches to light the forest. Suddenly, Quentin heard something rustle in the brush to his left. Acting on instinct he cast the spell and fired one of the arrows blindly into the darkness. When an outraged disturbed the quiet of the forest, he hoped he had hit his mark and not some other innocent creature.

Quentin moved swiftly drawing another arrow and walked toward his prey. He was relieved when he saw that he had succeeded in catching the White Lady. “Hi, don’t run…are you gonna?”

“What’s the deal?” Penny rushed over, hearing Quentin’s voice.

“I don’t know she’s kinda ignoring me.” Quentin held the bow and arrow up, ready to fire in case she tried to escape.

Penny started cursing at her and Quentin slapped his arm, silencing him. “Hey show some respect.” Turning back to the White Lady, Quentin tried again. “Pardon me um…Miss Lady.”

“It hurts.” She said in a monotone voice, glaring at Quentin.

“Ugh sorry.” Quentin apologized shifting from side to side.

“Why have you come?”

Quentin shared a look with Penny. “That’s my arrow, you have to give us what we ask.”

“Obviously you turd.” Standing up she pulled the arrow out of her chest, snapped it in half and threw it to the ground. She sauntered over to him, her pale skin glowing in the moonlight. “Look at you. Someone’s been rebuilt and so cleverly.” She reached out and knocked on his arm.

“Could you not.” Quentin remarked. She was even taller than he expected, easily towering over both him and Penny.

The White Lady sneered down at Quentin and scoffed. “What is it that you want Quentin Coldwater …what more could you possibly fucking ask for?”

Penny and Quentin begun fighting about their wishes, but it was quickly put to a stop by the irritated mystical being. “You can each have one wish, or you can fuck off.” It was late and the two morons in front of her were interrupting her sleep.

“Alice. Bring her back to life please.” Quentin begged, staring up at the White Lady with wide eyes.

“I can’t…” She looked away almost apologetically.

“What do you mean you can’t? You are not the only magical creature in this fucking forest!” Quentin barked angrily, he held up the bow and fought the urge to shoot her again.

The Lady sighed. “True and we all have limits, we cannot pierce that veil. Alice is gone.”

Penny nudged Quentin’s shoulder and stepped forward. “My turn. I want my hands back”

“That’s what I can do.” She smirked and waved a hand at Penny. Immediately Penny screamed in agony. He ripped off the bandages and watched in morbid fascination as his hands slowly began to grow back. The White Lady huffed, waved her hand, and Penny collapse to the ground silent and unmoving. 

“What did you do?” Quentin panicked. The night had veered so wildly from his original plans, his head was spinning trying to keep up. 

“All that screaming was irritating. He’ll wake up eventually.” She prodded Penny's body with her hoof then turned her attention back on the younger man. “Now what to do with you. I cannot sleep until you get something.”

“I’d like to be happy. Can you do that?” Quentin asked sarcastically.

“I can do wonders but there is nothing that will sooth your shade. There’s only what I can take away,” she hinted.

Quentin’s eyes snapped to hers. “You can take away my memories of Alice.” His heart pounding in his chest so loud, he was sure she could hear it too.

“Yes. I can free you completely.” She promised, a blank expression on her face.

Quentin considered the prospect. Would he be happier without those memories? Would it make everything okay again? Quentin sharply exhaled, he knew the truth. “No.”

“You are wiser than you appear.” A faint smile appeared on her face. “You would find your way back to sadness no matter how far you run from it.”

“Well that’s comforting.” Quentin scoffed, digging his foot in the dirt.

“Is there nothing else you desire?”

“Everything I’ve ever wanted I’ve got…what else could I need.” He sighed. Looking up he noticed a trail of blood coming from the arrow wound he inflicted upon her and felt a stab of guilt. “Can I?” He gestured to her injury.

She nodded curiously and watched as Quentin healed the gash with a bit of magic Isao taught him. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone else anymore. I’m sorry.” He took off the quiver on his back and placed it on the ground next to the discarded bow. Walking a few feet to a nearby tree he leaned against the rough bark and looked at the ground, expecting her to leave.

Instead a pale hand entered his line of vision cupping a small purple orb with smoke swirling in the middle. “I’ve never done this before but here." She placed the orb into Quentin's trembling hand. "This is your wish, crush it whenever and I will come to you.” After handing it over, she trotted away, disappearing into the night.

Quentin stared down at the orb in disbelief. Shaking his head, he sighed and closed his fist around it, drawing comfort from the subtle hint of magic the gift gave off. A low moan interrupted his thoughts and was reminded of his fallen companion.

He knelt on the ground next to Penny’s body and checked to see if he was okay. Penny’s hands were slowly reforming, but the process seemed to be slowing down as the magic worked on reconstructing the more delicate features such as his nerves and veins. It was probably a good thing the White Lady knocked him out.

Quentin stared around the quiet forest. He felt completely alone and like a colossal failure. He didn’t realize how much hope he had placed in this stupid plan of his. A big part of him truly expected that he would have Alice by his side once more. Tears trickled down his face, but he felt numb to it all. He should have wished to go back home, but for some reason the thought of leaving Fillory sent a painful twinge to his heart.

“We found them!” Quentin turned around to see a soldier holding up a torch approaching him. “My King are you hurt?!”

Unwilling to speak at the moment, Quentin simply shook his head because no he wasn’t physically hurt. Mentally, that was a whole other story. More guards appeared out of the darkness of the forest, running toward them. Standing up, he slipped the orb into his pocket and silently instructed the guards toward Penny's prone body. A few guards lifted the unconscious man from the ground and carried him to the carriage that was waiting for them.

The ride back to the castle was a silent one, Quentin stared blankly out the window the entire time. Until then, his mission was to defeat the Beast and get back Alice. Now that was over, and they expected him to help rule a country. How the fuck was he going to do that, he could barely take care of himself let alone a kingdom.

“My King.” Quentin flinched back when a hand unexpectedly touched his shoulder. His eyes focused on the apologetic looking guard.

“Sorry yes.” It was clear that the guard had been trying to get his attention for some time.

“We have arrived back at the castle.” The guard backed away and Quentin stepped out of the carriage. He stared up at the imposing building and walked through the opulent front doors.

A few people lingered around, bowing to Quentin as he passed. “Should I go tell the High King and Queen about your return?” The guard asked.

“No. It’s late let them sleep.” Quentin didn’t know if he could handle seeing the two right now. “If you could please bring Penny to a guest room so he could recover comfortably that would be great.”

“Of course your Majesty.” He bowed and ushered the men carrying Penny down the hall.

Another person stepped forward, an older gentleman this time, and showed Quentin the way to his room. It was a far walk and had Quentin been more alert, he’d realize just how big the castle was. Finally arriving to his bedchambers, the gentleman bid Quentin goodnight and left him to get settled.

The room was huge, easily the size of an apartment, but at the moment Quentin couldn’t care less. Throwing his things haphazardly to the floor, he crawled into the enormous bed with Alice’s necklace clasped in his hands. He hoped sleep would come to him quickly, but he knew better.

Still he closed his eyes and ignored the tears and empty feeling that clawed its way through his chest. His angry thoughts swirled around in his head, keeping him from falling asleep. He wished he could have an off switch for his mind, just to escape for a little while. But you can’t run from yourself, so he was stuck in a cycle of depression.

Without warning it felt as though his skin became oversensitive with all his nerves coming to life at once. Even the light material of the jumpsuit he was still wearing, chafed his skin. He tore it off and kicked the clothing to the floor, which only helped marginally. The soft sheets felt better on his bare skin, but he still felt out of sorts and fidgeted unable to relax.

The violent motion launched the purple orb out of the jumpsuit's pocket and across the room. It rolled under the dresser, where the White Lady’s precious gift would remain, forgotten by the grieving King.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 9/28/2019

Despite his exhaustion, Quentin had been lying in bed awake for hours. All night he tossed and turned, maybe getting three hours of sporadic restless sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he was haunted by nightmares consisting of blue fire and moths feasting on his flesh.

Eventually, the darkness of the night faded away as the morning sun rose into the sky. The light streamed into his room through the large window panes that reached the ceiling. Quentin wished he had closed the curtains before he went to bed. He knew he could get up and shut them himself, but he felt chained to the bed by his lethargy.

His room was magnificent, and Quentin could see someone had put in a lot of work to decorate the vast space. Hints of his favorite colors were splattered throughout, contrasting nicely with the white stone of the castle walls, but Quentin didn’t care. He could only think about how much Alice would have loved living in the castle. In the short time they’d been in Fillory, she had been fascinated by the architecture and history behind the castle.

“What the fuck Q!?” Eliot shouted angrily, bursting through Quentin’s doors. The younger man didn’t even flinch at the sudden intrusion and chose to ignore Eliot all together.

“Do you know how worried we were? You disappeared from the Retreat and no one knew where you went!” Eliot paced around the room. “You’re lucky Isao remembered that you saw the White Lady and we were able to figure out where the fuck you went.”

Quentin stayed silent, pulling the covers over his head trying in vain to block out the irate King.

Eliot continued to rant, unbothered by the lack of response he was receiving. “You went through five surgeries. FIVE! You nearly fucking died!! They were talking about cutting off your whole arm.” He yanked the blanket off of the bed and Quentin moaned and rolled over facing away from Eliot.

Walking over to Quentin’s side, Eliot saw the tears that fell silently down his face, soaking the pillow. Eliot sat onto the bed and gently combed his fingers through Quentin’s hair. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard for you. We all miss Alice.”

“Oh fuck off. You don’t know how I’m feeling!” Angrily Quentin shoved Eliot off the bed and got up, walking over to the window.

Eliot’s face heated up in anger. He marched over to Quentin, turning him around so Eliot could see his face. “Oh really why don’t you enlighten me then Quentin.”

“I killed her!” Quentin cried hysterically shoving Eliot away. “It’s my fault she’s dead, do you have any idea how that fucking feels??”

A flash of pain flickered over Eliot’s face, before he shoved his feelings behind a mask of indifference. “Yeah I do know how that feels. Unless you fucking forgot, I basically raped and killed an innocent man because of the Beast.”

Quentin felt guilty, he knew how much that incident affected Eliot, but he was too far gone to take back his words. “It’s not the same.” He roughly brushed past Eliot.

“Fuck that it isn’t.” Eliot gripped onto his forearm to prevent him from walking away. “I know what you’re doing…why are you trying to shut me out!?”

“Oh that’s rich coming from the fucking king of shutting people out!” Quentin screamed into Eliot’s face.

“Um my Kings, sorry to interrupt.” A tall man in his forties, poked his head into the room. “Queen Margo sent me to get you, High King Eliot.” Even in his grief Quentin could see that he was extremely handsome and looked eerily like Margo.

“Quentin, meet your personal assistant and before you ask, no he’s not related to Margo we checked.” With that Eliot stormed out of the room, not giving Quentin a second look.

“Fuck.” Quentin muttered to himself, covering his face with his hands. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

A gentle voice called out, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. “Sorry to have barged in like that. My name is Calix. Pleased to finally meet you, your Majesty.”

“Hi, I’m Quentin…but you probably already know that. It’s nice to meet you, sorry you had to be here and witness that.” Quentin shifted nervously on his feet, avoiding eye contact.

“No worries Sire. It is my honored duty to offer you my assistance and make your life here a little easier.” Calix walked over to the closet and gathered some clothes for Quentin to wear. It was then Quentin realized with mortification that he was standing in only his underwear, having forgotten his state of undress during his argument with Eliot.

Dashing behind a screen in the corner of his room, Quentin hurried to put on the clothes and tried to make small talk. “Do you know how Penny is doing?”

“Yes. He has recovered nicely and has traveled back to Earth.”

“Oh well that’s good.” Quentin struggled with the fancy buttons on his new shirt, which was far nicer than his usual black tee-shirt and jeans combo. “Could you um…help me?” Quentin asked embarrassed.

Calix smiled congenially and showed Quentin how to fasten the buttons on the elegant shirt.

“Oh, I forgot to mention.” Unnoticed by Quentin, Eliot had walked back into his room and paused staring at the two men standing close together. Eliot cleared his throat, glaring at the floor he continued shortly. “The Wellspring is broken.” Eliot left once more, slamming the door shut.

Alarmed, Quentin turned to Calix for an explanation. “What?”

“Due to the…pollution courtesy of Ember, the Wellspring has been greatly damaged, and its waters aren’t replenishing.” Calix told Quentin grimacing.

Quentin grabbed his Fillory book out of his messenger bag he had dropped onto the floor and began searching through its pages for any mention of the Wellspring. “Can’t they just filter it out?”

“They have tried. We've hired expert engineers and master magicians, but nothing has worked so far. What’s worse is that magic is now fluctuating randomly, and it is rather inconsistent at the moment.” Calix explained, going over to make the bed and tidied up the room.

“There must be something we can do.” Quentin was terrified, magic was everything to him and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing the one thing that made him special.

Calix sighed. “I wish my King, but truthfully, there isn’t much known about the Wellspring unfortunately.” Any information on the Wellspring that was available, had been kept well protected by past rulers out of fear in case anyone tried to use it against Fillory.

“There must be something in the library.” Quentin ran his fingers through his hair putting the Fillory book down after finding nothing useful.

“At one time, our library was teeming with knowledge of all kinds.” Calix looked off with a wistful expression on his face, before sighing with regret. “If there was a book, it is long gone.”

“We should still check.” Quentin relied, grabbing something off his nightstand and placing it into his pocket.

Together they left the room, Calix leading the way through the castle to the library. They passed many people working in the castle who stopped to greet their King. Arriving at their destination, Quentin opened the doors to the library and stared at the empty shelves.

They scoured through the remaining books but it was pointless, there wasn’t anything useful left that could help them. “This library should be filled to the brim with books, fucking Martin.” Quentin cursed, tossing a book on sewing patterns to the side.

“Perhaps he hid them somewhere?” Calix suggested. “These books were priceless and filled with great knowledge, I doubt someone would just destroy that.”

“You’d be surprised, but you might be right. I think the books are still in Fillory. When we um.” Quentin cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “um fought the B-Beast, he had this study over the Wellspring that was filled with books. What if our missing ones are still there.”

“If you're right we need to hurry before the study disappears forever.” Since the study was created with Martin’s magic, his death could unravel the magic sustaining the structure’s existence and they could lose the books forever.

Quentin fought back the onslaught of memories as he realized he had to go back to that godawful place. Even though he didn’t want to, he needed to see the Wellspring for himself. He just wasn’t sure if he was ready yet, but then again, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready.

Calix looked at Quentin in concern. “Are you okay Sire?”

“Yes. I’m fine…let’s go. We need to speak to Eliot and Margo first.” Quentin rushed out of the library. Entering the throne room, he saw Margo and Eliot sitting on their thrones in a heated discussion.

Margo glanced up and saw Quentin for the first time since they left the retreat. She rushed up to him and wrapped him into a tight hug. “Q, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He held onto her tightly, not realizing how much he missed her the last few days.

He stared over her shoulder at the empty throne that was once Alice’s and pulled away, his chest tightening. “Listen, I think I know where the castle’s missing library is. It would make sense that when Martin stole them, he kept them at his study. Calix and I are going to check, is it okay if we take some carriages and guards.”

“Of course Q, they're yours too. You don’t have to ask.” Margo said kindly, fusing with his clothing. “Have you eaten yet? You can join us for breakfast before you go to the wellspring.”

“No, I’m not really hungry right now.” Quentin grimaced, his stomach revolting at the idea of eating.

Margo stared at Quentin before nodding, a knowing look in her eye. “Okay but at least take some fruit with you.” She looked directly at Calix while saying this, then turning she ordered someone to gather a small basket of food for them to take.

Although he was still furious with the younger man Eliot couldn’t help but be concerned for him. Eliot pulled Quentin to the side. “Are you sure you’re fine going back there?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about me okay.” Quentin said stubbornly before storming out of the room.

“Calix.” Eliot called and the man dutifully walked to Eliot, basket of food in hand. “Keep an eye on him. If anything happens to Quentin, I’ll tear out your organs one by one and feed them to you.”

“Yes your majesty.” Calix gulped. He recognized the deadly glint in his King’s eye that showed he wasn’t joking in the slightest. Bowing respectfully, he dashed after Quentin.

Margo strolled over to Eliot. “He looked like he was about to shit his pants. What did you say to him?”

“Oh nothing Bambi.” Eliot said coyly wrapping an arm around Margo. “I merely pointed out that if anything happens to Q, his life would be significantly more…difficult.”

Margo snorted once and wrapped her arms around Eliot’s waist leaning onto him. “I’m worried about Quentin.”

She had been a nervous wreck during his surgeries, worried he wouldn’t make it or they wouldn’t be able to fix his arm. All she could see was his arm dangling from his side covered in blood. Seeing him, more or less appearing like normal, almost brought tears to her eyes, not that she would ever admit that out loud.

“I am too. But I’ve been through something similar and look how I turned out.” Eliot’s eyes flickered to Margo before darting around the room to the throne where Quentin’s crown remained.

“That’s exactly why I’m fucking worried.” Margo groaned and gave Eliot a sharp look. “How are you doing?”

“Surprisingly okay. But it could be the damn opium in the air.” Eliot told her. There were still times he wanted to throw himself off the highest tower, but those times were few and far between.

They walked over to the window and looked down in time to see Quentin enter a carriage and ride off into the woods.

“You know what Penny told us before he left.” Eliot said placing a hand on the window, wondering if he should have gone with Quentin.

“We’ll help him through it. He just needs to stop acting like a stubborn dick and let us.” Margo crossed her arms over her chest, glowering out the window.

Eliot repositioned the crown on his head and stood up tall, holding his arm out for Margo. “Let’s go my Queen, we have shit to do.”

Meanwhile, starring out the window of the carriage, Quentin watched as the castle disappeared from view. He was incredibly worried about the Wellspring and what would happen if they couldn’t fix it. It would be the end of all magicians and not to mention there were many plants and animals in Fillory that depended on it’s magic.

It was only his first day, but the High King and Queen had given Calix fair warning about King Quentin’s self-destructive tendencies. Watching the King from the corner of his eye, he could see what they meant. It wasn’t the norm for a King or Queen to have just one personalize servant, but Eliot changed that to protect his friend.

Digging through the basket of food, Calix tried to get Quentin to eat something, Eliot’s warning still fresh in his head. Though Quentin wanted to refuse, he settled for an apple to nibble at.

When they arrived at the Wellspring, the guards took charge and cautiously opened the door leading to the study. A joyous cheer filled the air indicating that thankfully, the room Martin created was still intact. They began to excavate the books, armfuls at a time, and loaded them carefully into the carriages.

Along with the guards they bought a few historians and magicians to check over the books. Some of the texts were so old they had to place special wards around the carriages so they wouldn’t be damaged on the ride back to the castle.

Quentin couldn’t bring himself to join the recovery party. Instead, he wandered over to the spot Alice died. The scorch marks in the ground were faint but Quentin couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. It was as though he could still see the blue fires and hear her screams. He pulled out her necklace from his pocket, tears prickling his eyes.

“Sire!” Calix called out in alarm. “The study is disappearing!”

He put the necklace around his neck and tucked it into his shirt. Running over to the study, he could see it flickering in and out of existence. He jammed himself into the doorway and pushed his magic into it, trying to keep it open in order to buy them more time.

Another Fillorian magician quickly caught on and rushed over to help Quentin keep the magic stable. Their magic was enough to keep the study in existence for thirty more minutes. Breathing heavily by the time the last guard left, Quentin finally released his hold and watched the study fade out, leaving behind a simple wooden structure.

“Were you able to get all the books?” Quentin asked breathlessly.

“Yes, all of the shelves were emptied, and we summoned any hidden books. They need to be checked over for curses or dark residue, but we believe that was all of them.” Calix reported brightly, after consulting with the historians and guards.

“Good maybe something there will be able to help us.” Quentin went over and checked each of the eight carriages which were filled with the recovered books.

He offered the tired guards some of the food that was left in the basket. They thanked him and settled down onto nearby rocks and logs, chattering about their success.

Quentin stood a little away leaning against a tree. “Can I see the Wellspring?”

“Of course!” Calix called over a Fillorian master magician who was holding a familiar marble in his hand. He placed the bead onto the opening of the Wellspring, and it opened up revealing the mystical waters below.

Someone had placed a wooden ladder at the entrance, leading down to the Wellspring which Quentin carefully climbed down.

Stepping onto the sandy ground, he could immediately sense the ancient magic that filled every part of the well. The water gave off a mesmerizing caerulean glow that illuminated the whole cave. It wasn’t just the water either, the rocks and walls were imbued with the magic as well. He leaned over carefully and saw how alarmingly low the water was.

“It’s not even a quarter of what should be there.” Calix said from his side.

Upon further inspection, Quentin spotted the equipment that they placed temporarily in their efforts to clean the water. “Tell me about what has been done.”

“From what I was told, they first attempted to use a giant net to remove the pollution. However, the droppings were soaked in the water too long and broke apart. It began contaminating the water further and stuck to the rocks.” Calix told Quentin grimly, a frown in place distorting his handsome features.

Quentin nearly gagged in disgust, taking a step back from the water he shuddered. “Jesus. Okay then what?”

“They then tried to filter the water itself, but that didn’t work either. The water here doesn’t behave like normal liquids. It’s as though it has a mind of its own and it refused to cooperate with them by deliberately not flowing through the filtration systems.” Calix pointed to a tube in the water that rested on a patch of dry land, surrounded by water that refused to go near it.

“That is so weird, I didn’t know water could be sentient.” Quentin was amazed by the ancient structure. “Is anyone documenting this?”

Calix nodded. “Oh yes. It’s been nearly two hundred years since someone last analyzed the Wellspring. We have the best scholars and researchers on site studying it extensively.”

“Any further attempts with magic or potions were likewise unsuccessful.” Calix showed Quentin a small crack in the wall. “We had to temporarily stop when that appeared.”

“What the hell happened?” Quentin leaned over and examined the damaged area.

“We have theorized that the Wellspring was unhappy with our tampering and caused the damage to itself.”

Quentin glanced around to further study the Wellspring. The walls were made of a dark rock that was warm to the touch. Additionally, evidence of luminescent properties could be seen when the stones glowed and throw off refractions of light even in the gloom. They were unlike anything he’d ever studied or seen in his life. When he gently placed a hand the rocks, they glowed brighter before flickering out.

This was the source of all magic and Quentin was standing right in the middle of it. That both terrified and humbled Quentin. Breathing in deeply, he could feel the magic flowing through his veins reaching out to the Wellspring.

He cursed Ember for shitting into the spring, even if it did ultimately help their fight against Martin, it still created more problems than it was worth. Quentin had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him that if they didn’t fix the well soon, there would be serious consequences.

“Let’s go.” Shaking his head, he crawled back up the ladder out of the Wellspring.

As they made their way back to the castle, Quentin couldn’t help but think that Alice would’ve definitely known what to do in this situation. She would have thrived on the challenge and opportunity to study such an important place.

Shaking off the depressing thoughts, he focused on the task at hand. They now had access to their missing library. Hopefully there would be a few books that could give them more information on the Wellspring and how to fix it.

He now had a new purpose in life, to restore the spring that was damaged by the very god sworn to protect it.  Quentin silently vowed that he would do whatever it took to fix the Wellspring…or die trying.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 9/29/2019

While the library liberation was underway, Eliot and Margo prepped for a meeting with their advisors and Fen in the grand throne room of Castle Whitespire. They met with the council a few times before, but they had been putting certain issues off until they were sure Quentin would make a full recovery.

Once they felt prepared enough, Eliot and Margo requested a few messengers go and inform the council members their presence was required at once. When everyone finally showed up, the two monarchs were ready to begin, sitting regally in their thrones

“Everyone I’d like you to meet Fen.” Eliot begun the meeting and gestured for the young woman to step forward. “Fen, this is what’s left of the council after the Beast viciously murdered everyone else.”

Margo snickered at Eliot’s crude phrasing and identified each of the remaining members. “The guy with the sloth is Rafe, Heloise is the badass bitch with the sword, and lastly is Tick. He’s a little annoying but you’ll get use to him eventually.”

“It’s nice to meet you all.” Fen nodded to each, waving pleasantly at the group who for the most part seemed pleased to meet her if a bit confused as to why she was there.

“Fen here is going to be a member of the council, honoring a deal we made with her family.” Margo leaned back in her throne, crossing her legs.

“What?! What deal?” Tick cried outraged for reasons unknown, his eyes darting between the monarchs.

Eliot rose an eyebrow at Tick’s interruption but explained the situation for them. “Quentin traveled to Fillory’s past and made a deal with her grandfather, a knifemaker. He forged a special blade for us, one that would have helped us kill the Beast.” His fists clenched onto the arms of his chair as he pushed back the memories. “In turn he requested that the future High King marry someone in their family.”

“By the time they showed up again to collect the Leo blade, I was the only one who was eligible,” Fen interjected and continued the story. “However, I’d much rather marry the High Queen, but, no offense, Margo scared the crap out of me.”

Fen sent an apologetic look to Margo, who shook off the slight. “Thankfully, my father respected my wishes and amended the deal so that I’d become a member of the council instead.”

“Is she also going to be a member of the S.A.F.E.?” Heloise inquired, sharing a look with Rafe.

“I’m sorry, the what?” Eliot searched his memories, thinking back if Quentin ever mentioned anything about a safe.

Rafe took over the explanations as he looked to Abigail for guidance. “The S.A.F.E. stands for the Six Ambassadors to the Fillorian Embassy. They serve as the most trusted advisory board for the kings and queens and hold the highest authority just under the monarchs.

“The S.A.F.E. members are appointed by whoever the current monarchs are. It is a great honor to be chosen.” Rafe leaned down to whisper something to Abigail.

Margo arched an eyebrow. She didn’t remember anything about the S.A.F.E. when she read the Fillory books, but then again, they were finding something new every day. “Who were the last S.A.F.E. members?”

“Well the Chatwin’s did pick their own S.A.F.E. members, but after Martin took over, he killed them all and never appointed anyone but Tick. So technically Tick’s the current leader and only member.” Rafe looked over to Tick who stood taller, proud of his prestigious role. “We formed this council temporarily in order to assist you once you became our new rulers.”

Tick pointed to the pendant around his neck, bearing the Fillorian crest. “The necklace I wear is a sign of my status. I’ve been doing this job, and doing it well if I may add, for the last 30 years.”

“Okay well how do we appoint the new members?” Eliot sighed and rubbed his temples. This was just another thing on top of a mile-long list of shit they had to do.

“Unfortunately, Martin also hid away the ritual room where the initiation takes place. Therefore, it is simply not possible anymore.” Tick rubbed his hands together nervously and looked down.

Eliot rolled his eyes. “Alright, well we’ll just make Fen an honorary member for the moment until we can find the room.”

Fen beamed brightly. “Thank you, my King.” She had been prepared to be a ordinary member of the council but as a S.A.F.E. member she could do far more for her country then she had ever dreamed.

“Okay what else do we need to discuss?” Margo snapped her fingers impatiently and a servant walked over with a goblet of caffeinated tea, the closest the country had to coffee.

Flipping through a pile of papers, Tick moved onto with the next problem. “Well with the Wellspring malfunctioning, our agricultural economy is failing rapidly. Magic usually just deals with the plant life, but since it’s been on and off the crops are dying.”

“What are the farmers doing to fix the problem?” Eliot asked quietly confused as to why the lack of magic was such a major issue.

“What do you mean your Highness?” Tick remarked baffled.

“Are they setting up irrigation systems, using fertilizer, plowing the fields themselves?” Everyone, including Margo, sent him blank stares. “Oh my god. My past is coming back to haunt me.” He dramatically threw an arm over his eyes and leaned back in his throne.

Rolling her eyes at her friend’s theatrics, Margo asked. “How much food do we have in storage?”

“Enough, but it won’t last long, and it definitely cannot sustain the entire kingdom.” Heloise stepped forward and handed Margo a few documents on their food supply.

“Why can’t I just pop back to earth and get some food.” Eliot waved his hand and summoned the Fillory button to himself. “I’ll be back for you even know it.”

“That is very brave of you my King.” Tick simpered, while Rafe and Heloise gave each other looks of disbelief.

“It isn’t brave. It’s suicidal.” Fen cried out enraged.

Eliot scoffed and muttered darkly. “I know, I know. I can’t leave Fillory.” He was tired of being reminded that he was now stuck in Fillory forever.

“It’s more than just not leaving.” Fen took a step closer to Eliot, her voice strong and unwavering. “The moment you accepted the role of High King you swore your life, soul, and magic to Fillory. If you leave this world your magic will be ripped out of you and you will crumple to dust.”

“Well…fuck.” Eliot stared at her unseeingly. He shared a look with Margo, and she reached over to grasp his hand.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Tick said carelessly.

“Yes, it is!” Rafe shouted back. The normally quiet natured man was obviously upset by Tick’s cavalier behavior.

“Is there any way out of that oath?” Margo took hold of the situation before it escalated further.

“Well I suppose if you abdicate the throne it would release you of your oath, but you will never be allowed to return to Fillory.” Rafe conferred with the sloth. “Also her slowliness, wishes for me to tell you that your magic might still disappear.”

“What about a golem?” Margo questioned vigorously, trying to think of any possible loophole for her friend. “It wouldn’t be him technically leaving!”

Heloise did some quick calculations, before grimly pointing out her findings. “That might last for two hours at most, but it will end the same way since it is still tied to his life force and magic.”

Eliot could feel his heart rate begin to elevate and the air flow restrict to his lungs, the early signs of a panic attack creeping up. His eyes darted around wildly as even in the vast throne room he felt like the walls were closing in. He looked to Margo in desperation, squeezing her hand tightly.

“Please leave us.” Margo commanded abruptly, looking around she saw the council pause but no one left. “I said fuck off.” She shouted once more.

Various members of the council jumped at her harsh tone and scampered out the doors. Once they were alone, Eliot jumped up from his throne and started pacing frantically. Running his hands through his hair, he nearly dislodged the crown from his head. “Fuck Bambi! I didn’t sign up for this shit!”

“None of us did, but for whatever stupid reason, you’re the High King to an entire land. We have a responsibility to these people.” Margo got off her throne and sat down at a table, taking notes on the S.A.F.E. and the food shortage issues.

“We don’t even know what we’re doing!” Eliot shrieked picking up a book and chucking it at the wall.

“We never know what we are doing Eliot!” Margo stared at her friend, a steely look in her eyes. “You know as well as I do that most of the time, we make that shit up as we go. We can do that again!”

Eliot scoffed bitterly and crossed his arms. “Easy for you to say, you can leave if we fuck this up. You can go back to Brakebills or do whatever you god damn want.”

Margo slapped her hand down onto the table glaring at Eliot. “My crown is just as heavy as yours.”

“I don’t belong here. I’m not ready to be King, I’m not done being me. This was Quentin’s wet dream not mine.” Eliot exhaled and walked over to Margo, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “It was easier when all we had to worry about the Beast trying to rip us apart into tiny little pieces.”

“Now we’re just…” Eliot whispered trailing off, his voice heavy with emotion.

Margo turned and glanced up at him placing her hands on his and finished his sentence. “Grownups.”

“How did that happen?”

“Life happened and fucked us over, like always.” Margo shrugged her shoulders.

Eliot snickered. “Now what?”

“Now we rule this kingdom together. You, me and Quentin.” Margo stood up next to Eliot and straightened the crown on his head, before placing her hands on his arms. “You better believe we’ll be the best damn monarchs this motherfucking place has ever seen.” She wrapped Eliot in a warm embrace, taking solace in each other’s arms.

“Sorry to bother you both, but King Quentin is back. It appears he has succeeded in finding our missing library.” Fen said excitedly from the doorway.

Clearing his throat Eliot took a step back and held an arm out for Margo. “Shall we.”

“We shall.” Margo softly smiled at Eliot, before throwing on her game face.

Together they walked out of the throne room with their heads held high only to see the advisors had been waiting in the hallway. “Have you all been just standing here…wait no.” Margo did a quick head count. “We seem to be missing one and a half members.”

“Rafe and Abigail went to oversee the process of returning the books to the library.” Fen answered the silent question.

Heloise and Tick stood by the window watching as they unloaded the books from the carriages down below. “We are hoping some of the books they found might give us some of the answers to our food crisis.” Heloise regarded the monarchs with a concerned look. She wasn’t a stranger to panic attacks and recognized the signs in her King. She caught the eye of the King and nodded when he appeared to be recovered.

Margo noted the exchange with approval at Heloise’s discretion. She would be damned if she let anyone look down upon Eliot or think him weak. Clapping her hands to gather everyone’s attention, she ordered Tick to lead them to the library.

They only walked a little ways down the hall making idle plans for the library, when Eliot stopped short. “You guys go ahead, I’m going to go back and get Q’s crown. He should wear it.” He kissed Margo’s cheek and turned back.

Eliot strolled down the hallway and reentered the throne room. He was just about to grab Quentin’s silver crown, when a thick rope wrapped around his throat.

His adrenaline kicked into high gear when the oxygen flow to his airways was roughly cut off. He tried to throw the assailant off, but they were too strong. He pulled back the rope, long enough to shout for help, but then the unknown person doubled their efforts to murder him. His lungs were burning, his vision was becoming blurry, and the lack of oxygen was making his head spin.

Feet thundered into the throne room and Heloise quickly tackled the attacker to the ground. She brought the would-be assassin to his knees and she held her sword to his throat, daring him to move a muscle. Meanwhile, several guards held their spears up in defense, in case he tried to escape.

When the rope fell from his neck, Eliot collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. “ELIOT!” Margo screeched running into the room and kneeling next to her best friend. She could see the rough bruise already forming around his neck and her blood boiled in furry. “Who the fuck are you?” She bellowed moving to stand over the attacker.

The attacker merely smirked at her and remained quiet. Fen had to hold her back when Margo lunged at the man, ready to rip him to pieces. Tick and another guard helped Eliot to his knees, and Eliot rubbed his neck, shaking in equal parts fear and fury.

“Why have you tried to kill your King?” Tick interrogated the attacker.

He rolled his eyes at Tick and sneered at Eliot with a cold stare. “Dresden sends his kind regards your Majesty.” The guy mocked, spitting onto the floor.

“Send him to the dungeons.” Margo ordered furiously while Fen hesitantly released her hold on Margo. The guards dragged the prisoner to his feet and roughly carried him away.

“Who’s—” Eliot tried to speak, but a coughing fit interrupted him.

“Don’t talk, you dumbass.” Margo rushed to Eliot handing him a glass of water one of the servants brought over while rubbing his back. “But really, who’s this Dresden fucker?”

Heloise wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her sword, her jaw tense. “Dresden is the leader of the FU Fighters.”

“Excuse me. Did you say Foo Fighters?” Margo mocked and even Eliot chuckled briefly before wincing when the movement irritated his throat.

“Fillorians United Fighters. They are an organization that despises the rule that states only children of Earth can rule Fillory.” Fen explained carefully not wanting to anger Queen Margo further.

“We didn’t fucking make that rule!” Margo screamed in frustration. “Why aren’t they after Ember’s ass?”

“They don’t care that you didn’t make the rule, you’re still taking charge as the King and Queen of Fillory. Plus, you guys are way easier to kill then Ember is,” Fen’s eyes widened when she realized how callous her words sounded and hastened to apologize. “No offense.”

“Great, someone else who fucking wants us dead. I was just saying life without the constant threat of death was getting boring.” Margo exclaimed sardonically and paced back and forth, her hands on her hips.

“What should we do about the prisoner?” Eliot said his voice rough. His throat was killing him, and he had a splitting headache.

“They are peasants merely throwing a tantrum,” Tick commented superiorly. “Why worry about them at all?”

Fen laughed humorlessly and glared at Tick. “Yeah it’s only an assassination attempt, why bother worrying.”

“Fine then have him executed.” Tick yelled crossly at Fen, glaring right back.

“Great let’s do that.” Margo clapped her hands together, the loud sound echoing around the room. “What’s the most painful method of execution we have?”

“No.” Eliot stood up slowly, rubbing his neck.

Margo turned to Eliot incredulously. “No? What the fuck?! You almost died!” She was in no mood for political games at the moment.

“The FU fighters already hate us, killing one of their own will only add to that fury.” Eliot told her simply, forcing his voice to be as loud as it could.

“He is right.” Heloise had been quietly observing the scene before speaking up. “We can’t have them recruiting more civilians.”

“We can’t do nothing!!” Margo growled. Was she the only one that wanted revenge against the FU fuckers?

Heloise took a calming breath and tried to rationalize with the irate Queen. “I’m not saying we should do nothing my Queen. We need to figure out a different way to punish him that won’t lead to further unrest.”

“And what do you suggest we do then?” Margo questioned heatedly. When everyone looked down at their feet, unable to answer, she scoffed. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

After arguing back and forth with no solution in sight, they decided to put the problem off until tomorrow. Guards were placed at all the entry points around the castle to prevent further intruders, as well as stationed watching the corridor that led to Eliot’s bedchambers.

It was late in the evening, Eliot sat at the desk in his room taking notes on some official documents when a timid knock sounded on his door. It was so soft he almost missed it. “Come in.”

Quentin walked in with a tray in his hand. “Hi.” He stayed close to the entrance, looking at the floor.

“Hello.” Eliot said coolly turning away and returning to his notes. Their earlier fight was still fresh in his mind.

“I um…I heard what happened and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Quentin nervously gulped and shifted on his feet.

“I’m fine.” Eliot said shortly giving Quentin the cold shoulder treatment.

Quentin winced and bit his lip. “Well alright then…good.”

“Is that all?” The heavy scratching of Eliot’s quill filled the silence that stretched miles between the two magicians.

“Yeah, I guess. I’ll just leave. Sorry for bothering you.” Quentin placed the tray carrying a teapot and a single cup on a table by the door and turned to leave.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob, whirling around he faced Eliot once more. “I’m sorry about yelling at you before, and for what I said. You were only trying to help, and I was being a complete asshole. I know if anyone can understand what I’m going through it’s you. I was just hurting and Alice—

“The point is. I’m sorry and I just needed to see that you were okay for myself.” Quentin blurted out his apologies. He was honestly terrified of losing anyone else right now and when he heard about the assignation attempt it scared him deeply.

Eliot sighed and placed his quill gently onto the table. He got up and ambled over to Quentin, standing in front of him. Eliot could see the sincere apology and fear written all over his face and drew the younger man into a hug. “I’m fine Q, really,” Eliot said his tone softer than before.

Quentin held onto him tightly and chocked back his tears, burying his face into Eliot’s neck. The taller man made a sound of discomfort when Quentin accidentally put pressure on his bruised neck. Quentin leaned back and examined the dark ring around Eliot’s neck, tracing it gently with his fingers.

Eliot suddenly felt very self-conscious of Quentin standing so close to him and tried to ease the tension. “At least I can cross strangulation off of my list of kinks to try now. Definitely a hard pass.”

Quentin blushed furiously and changed the subject. “Here I brought you some tea.” He waved his hand and the tray he brought with him floated over. “Calix said this should help your throat.”

Eliot took a sip of the herbal tea, pleased when it did help sooth his sore throat. “How is he? I picked Calix out specially for you.”

“He’s great. It’s weird having a personal assistant though.” Quentin smiled softly, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Well get use to it.” Eliot reached out a hand and nudged Quentin gently. “You’re a king now Q.”

“Right.” Quentin laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head.

After finishing the tea, Eliot checked the time with a quick spell. “It’s getting late,” he said regretfully. “We should probably get some sleep; this kingdom won’t run itself you know.”

Nodding his head in agreement, Quentin once more turned to leave but hesitated. “Can I stay with you tonight,” he blurted out. “I understand if you don’t want me here, I just really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Of course, you can stay.” A slow smile spread across Eliot’s face and he reached out and gently cupped Quentin’s face.

Eliot handed Quentin some night clothes to wear to bed and Quentin walked into the adjoining bathroom to change. Eliot changed quickly himself and went over to sit on the bed, changing positions continuously trying to act more natural. He didn’t understand why he was feeling nervous about having Quentin stay the night.

Strolling back into Eliot’s room, Quentin faltered awkwardly before crawling onto the bed and laid stiffly next to Eliot. An awkward silence filled the room, and Quentin began to regret asking to stay during his moment of weakness.

Eliot scoffed and pulled Quentin closer to him, breaking the awkwardness as they melted into the comfort of each other’s embrace. Quentin rested his head on Eliot’s chest, over his heart, and listened to the steady beat. “Now that’s better.” Eliot placed a kiss on his head and Quentin merely hummed in content.

The two remained silent for several minutes before Eliot broke the silence. “Did you really find our lost library?”

“Yeah we managed to recover hundreds of books.” Quentin absentmindedly began stroking the soft fabric covering Eliot’s chest. “Martin hid them away in his study.”

“What a fucker.” Eliot paused and asked, “do you think they’ll have anything on growing plants?”

“Probably why?” Quentin didn’t have time to look through the books they had found having gotten distracted by the news of Eliot’s near death. Even thinking about it now caused him to shift closer to Eliot’s warm body.

With his free hand, Eliot began carding his fingers through Quentin’s silky hair. “Turns out the magical power outages are destroying our crops and our people might go hungry if we don’t think of something soon.”

“Fuck El, how are we going to do this? We haven’t even graduated yet.” Quentin gripped onto Eliot’s shirt in distress.

Eliot rubbed Quentin’s arm soothingly, hearing the underlying anxiety behind his words. “I know. We’ll get through it. We have each other and the advisors of the S.A.F.E.”

“The what?” Quentin lifted his head and looked up at Eliot in confusion.

“It stands for the Six Ambassadors of the Fillorian Embassy, they are like a high council or something.” Eliot shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes. “Apparently, we get to pick the six ambassadors ourselves, but the all ritual shit went missing so it’s all unofficial right now.”

“Are there restrictions on who we get to pick?” Quentin didn’t know anyone in Fillory well enough yet that he could trust to be his advisor.

“None that we know of. For now, we are letting Tick continue to be the leader since he’s the only one officially initiated back when Martin was king.” Eliot was apprehensive about letting Tick remain leader, but they had no other choice at the moment.

“Ugh.” Quentin buried his face into Eliot’s chest, exhaling heavily and breathing in the familiar scent unique to Eliot. “I liked Fillory better when I was just reading about it.”

“Tell me about it. We’ll worry about it tomorrow, for now let’s sleep.” Eliot waved his hand and dimmed the lanterns.

In the darkness of the room, Eliot felt his senses come to life and he became acutely aware of the man pressed close to his body. It brought back hazy memories of a night he simultaneously wished to forget and also remember more clearly. Shaking off the thoughts, he drew in the warmth and comfort Quentin always seemed to bring him.

They got more comfortable as they let the exhaustion from the day wash over them. Quentin matched his breathing to Eliot’s and soon fell into a dreamless sleep for the first time since waking up at the Retreat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, this chapter took a lot longer to write then I had anticipated but it's finally done! I just started a new job, so updates might be a little slower, but I'm still going to try to upload a new chapter every other day or so. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Here is the next chapter to this story. It's not edited yet because I am The Worst, but I really wanted to get this next chapter uploaded sooo I apologize in advance for the mistakes that will inevitably be riddled throughout. I promise I will edit it as soon as I can!
> 
> UPDATE: This chapter is now edited ish...wow there were a lot of errors! SORRY!
> 
> Edited: 9/29/2019

Quentin slowly woke up, flinching away from the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. He really needed to remind himself to close those damn curtains before he went to bed. After a few more minutes he tried opening his eyes again but didn’t recognize his surroundings. He stared around the unknown room confused and wondered where he was.

When the warm arm curled around his waist tightened, he remembered with a start that he was with Eliot. They must have shifted positions in the middle of the night until they were spooning Eliot pressed against his back, breathing softly into his ear. He tried to shuffle away from Eliot’s hold, but the older man made a disgruntled noise and pulled him back, cuddling closer.

Quentin let it be for the moment and allowed himself to enjoy the closeness. Regardless of who he was with he always loved this part of waking up with someone, even in a platonic sense.

Grinning softly, Quentin turned over so he could lay face to face with the sleeping man. Looking up at Eliot, Quentin couldn’t deny the man was beautiful. Even with his hair a mess with those wild curls framing his face and the bit of crust in the corner of his eyes, Eliot was still enchanting.

Quentin never noticed how long Eliot’s eyelashes were, brushing against his cheeks as he slept. He couldn’t resist the opportunity and reached up to lightly trace Eliot’s face, feeling the smooth skin warm to the touch that gave way to rough stubble. He traced down Eliot’s long nose, pausing when Eliot wrinkled his nose and sleepily brushed away the tickling sensation.

Dragging his eyes further down, Quentin stared at Eliot’s lush lips, slightly parted as he slept on peacefully. Memories of hazy kisses brush against his mind and Quentin tried to remember what it felt like to have those lips pressed to his.

Before those thoughts could progress, he shook them off feeling like he was betraying Alice’s memory. Gently Quentin untangled himself from Eliot’s grasp, kissing his forehead and walked out of the room. Spotting a guard across the hallway keeping watch of the king’s bedchamber, Quentin blushed nodding awkwardly toward them before rushing down the halls back to his own room. It felt strangely like a walk of shame as he crept silently through the empty halls.

Finally arriving in his room, he treated himself to a well-deserved shower. Fillory was centuries away from the current technological advances back on Earth, but they somehow managed indoor plumbing. ‘ _Thank god_ ,’ Quentin thought as the warm water rushed over his tense muscles. His mind was mercifully quiet as he gave into the relaxing motions of his shower routine. Once cleaned, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a luxuriously plush towel around his waist.

Quentin opened up his closet and stared at the intimidating clothes that filled its depths, courtesy of the royal clothing maker. Fillorian fashion consisted of bright patterns woven into expensive feeling cloth in styles that were more fitting in medieval times rather than the 21st century. Rolling his eyes, he picked out a simple outfit in his usual black and got dressed.

Quentin didn’t want to stay in his room the whole day, so he decided to go out and explore the castle. It was still early and, except for a few workers dashing about, most of the palace’s occupants were still asleep. The hallways were peaceful and with the morning rays shining through the windows, it was like exploring something out of a fairytale.

Castle Whitespire truly was a gorgeous feat of architecture. It’s high arching ceilings and windows let in plenty of natural light during the day. There were hundreds of rooms, most of them guest rooms and a few were used as storage for weapons and other miscellaneous items.

Quentin found an impressive ballroom with crystal chandeliers and shiny polished marble floors he had to restrain himself from sliding across. He also discovered there were four kitchens in the palace. Apparently, the chefs would rotate which kitchen they used depending on what season it was, each fully stocked with its own pantries and ovens.

Another surprise Quentin found was the beautiful artwork and tapestries that adorned the walls of the castle. Quentin stopped briefly at each one to study, wondering who made them. Mostly they depicted different battles or scenic locations of Fillory, but there was one hall that held the paintings of Fillory’s past kings and queens.

One painting of the young Chatwin family caught his attention, and he stared at their faces. The painting must have been created right when they first started ruling, for the artist captured their childlike wonder perfectly, untainted by the darkness of their bleak futures. Sighing he left the portraits and continued on his exploration.

He ended up in the throne room and sat on his curse-free throne playing with his crown in his hands. Eliot and Margo had been ruling without him for nearly a month and he wondered how they handled the pressure. Fillory may be a whimsical country in nature but its problems are far from it.

Placing his crown on his head, Quentin tried to feel like a King fit to rule. Instead he felt like the same old depressed super nerd he always was, wholly unfit and unqualified to help run this small country. ‘ _I’ll probably just fuck it up even more_ ,’ Quentin thought morosely slouching in his throne, his crown heavy on his head.

A tall ornate clock in the corner of the throne room chimed nine times, bringing Quentin out of his thoughts. He heaved himself out of his chair and resumed his journey. Quentin realized he’d only seen maybe half of the castle and thought with awe that it would take a lifetime to discover all the secrets of the palace. Briefly he wondered idly if Benedict ever made a map of the castle itself, if so, that would be a great help in finding his way around.

By that point in the morning, many more workers were awake and starting their morning chores. Quentin stopped and shared a few words with them to introduce himself and ask a few for directions. Talking to a particularly chipper young man, he recommended checking out the north wing balcony. Thanking him for his suggestion, Quentin went off in search of the balcony.

When Quentin stepped onto the terrace, he could see why the young man recommended it. It was the epitome of peace and tranquility which helped to quiet the demons that lurked just under the surface of his mind. To his right, a beautiful garden dominated the small space filled with fresh flowers and produce. Vine’s crawled up the sides of the castle and to Quentin’s amazement, one branch detached itself from the wall to wave at him. Dazed Quentin waved back. In the center of the garden a small pond was in place filled with fish swimming in lazy circles.

The balcony itself overlooked the great forests of Fillory. The morning sun gently shone down on the world, bringing about another beautiful day. He could just about see the tops of the homes of a nearby village in the distance.

“Good morning my King.” A voice called out behind him.

Quentin turned and saw a woman holding a watering can. “Oh um hi, good morning.”

“Have you eaten yet your Highness?” She bowed to him with a warm smile on her face.

“No, and please call me Quentin.”

“I couldn’t do that!” She cried out scandalized. Clucking her tongue, she strolled over to the garden and plucked a few berries handing them to him.

“Haha okay,” he said gently. Biting into the fresh fruit, he nearly moaned as the sweet flavor burst into his mouth. “This is delicious!”

She smiled widely at the King. “I planted those myself your Majesty, they are Fillorian’s finest blackberries.”

After eating the rest of the berries in his hand, Quentin decided where he wanted to go next. “Would you be able to tell me how to get to the library from here?”

“Of course! Go down the stairs to the left and take a right, then follow the hallway until you see the painting of the waterfall. After that take another left and it should be three doors down.”

Quentin tried to memorize the directions in hopes that he wouldn’t get lost. “Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t ask for your name.”

“It’s Astrid my King,” Astrid replied. She bowed once more before turning to water the garden.

“Thank you, have a nice day!” With a final wave, Quentin turned and set off to the library.

There was no reason to be worried about getting lost because he was halfway there when he saw people carrying around books and shouting out orders. Following the slight chaos, Quentin was able to find the entrance to the library.

The library looked vastly different than it did twenty-four hours ago. The shelves were filled with books and the large room was bustling with historians and scholars working to check over and categorized all of the texts. Rafe was right in the middle of it all, holding a clipboard and clearly in charge of the whole operation.

Spotting Quentin lingering in the doorway, Rafe called him over. “My King it is amazing that you have recovered our stolen library!”

Remembering all the books still in the hallway outside, Quentin looked around at the full shelves. “How did we get so many books? There must be hundreds more still outside.”

“It turns out Martin’s study had more than just our books.” Rafe ticked off something on his clipboard as a stack of books floated by. “We now have his entire collection of books and most of them are very rare and valuable as well. The historians have never been happier.”

Quentin looked over to a group of historians who were nearly crying over a thick tome. “I bet, but will they all fit?

“Yes, but we may need to expand the library first.”

“We can do that?”

“Indeed. The castle holds some sentience and with a little help it can be encouraged to expand certain areas.” Rafe showed Quentin the preliminary blueprints for the expansion. “Once we have catalogued all the books, we will set up for the magic to expand the library.”

Quentin nodded, it would make sense. The castle was very old and had been surrounded by the ambient magic for centuries. The walls of the castle would have soaked up that magic further fortifying the building with added layers of protection.

Looking around he didn’t see the sloth that usually accompanied Rafe. “Where is Abigail?”

Rafe glanced down sadly, missing his companion. “All the dust from the books was making her unwell so she decided to take the day off.”

“Oh I’m sorry. I hope she gets well soon.” Quentin placed a hand on Rafe’s shoulder, wanting to comfort the usually cheerful man.

“Thank you, my King.” Though he hadn’t interacted with Quentin much himself, Margo and Eliot had told the council of his kind nature. Rafe was glad to see they were right in their views of the young King. 

Remembering the reason he came to the library in the first place, Quentin turned to Rafe. “Are there any books on the Wellspring?”

Rafe nodded, pointing to a small pile of thin books on a desk. “I put them aside to see if there is anything that could help us fix the spring.”

Quentin walked over and skimmed through the few thin volumes. It was disappointing how little information there was. According to the books, the Wellspring was created by the old gods as a gift for an ancient tribe of people that protected their temples. The legend foretold that they were the very first Magicians. They then passed on their ability to harness the power from the spring to their descendants and thus magic was spread on Earth.

The wellspring was originally found in Ancient Mesopotamia, but whispers of its mystical powers spread across the land, and greed over who controlled the source of all magic spread like wildfire. A fierce war broke out, between the humans and creatures of Earth, all fighting for the sole use of the wellspring. The fighting got so ruthless, it nearly wiped out life on Earth completely.

The old gods intervened just in time and decided to move the Wellspring to a new world, away from the greed of humans. They appointed Ember and Umber as the guardians of the spring and around it the brother gods created Fillory.

Quentin stared down at a crude illustration of the Wellspring in one of the books. The gods created the wellspring five thousand years ago. A thought struck Quentin and he gasped in surprise. “RAFE! I’ve got an idea. Go get the council, Eliot, and Margo and meet me in the throne room.” He ran out of the library clutching the book.

Rushing down the halls, Quentin bumped into Calix. “Sire! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“No time, come on we need to go the throne room now.” Quentin pulled Calix to the throne room and paced back and forth waiting for everyone to arrive.

“I think I know how to fix the wellspring!” Quentin told the group he summoned once they all arrived.

“How?” Margo arched an eyebrow at her friend, who was still pacing in front of them.

“We need a god to fix it.” Quentin eyed everyone in the room but received blank stares in return.

Eliot shared a concerned look with Margo, before turning to Quentin. “A god?”

“Yes, I know it sounds crazy but according the books it was the gods’ magic that created the Wellspring so maybe only they can fix it.” Quentin passed around the book on the wellspring over to the council members, showing them the information he found.

“You may be onto something.” Rafe tilted his head in thought.

“Okay but even if he’s right, how are we going to find a god? We certainly can’t ask Ember. No one’s seen him for weeks,” Tick questioned. They had indeed been trying to contact him, but his cave was emptied and was nowhere to be found.

Quentin was getting desperate at that point, but there was something telling him that this was what they needed to do. “There must be other gods out there, I can go find them.”

“Quentin babe, look I love you but how the fuck are you going to find a god?” Margo asked exasperated, not wanting to waste time on unrealistic dreams.

“I don’t exactly know yet, but there must be some information at Brakebills.”

“Okay say you’re right your Majesty and say you find a god, then what?” Heloise had the book in her hand but was staring at Quentin. His idea had merit, but the lack of a plan was what concerned her.

Quentin huffed impatiently, they were wasting time standing around talking in circles. “Look I’ll figure that all out later, but I think this is the best chance we have at fixing the Wellspring.”

“I don’t want you going alone, and Margo and I can’t go with you,” Eliot responded gently.

“I’ll take Calix with me, if he’s okay with that.” Quentin looked over to Calix, who had been standing patiently in the background.

“Of course.” Calix nodded in agreement, he wouldn’t dare let his King go off on this mission alone.

Eliot rolled his eyes and scoffed at the idea. “Yeah but he barely counts, and he can’t even do magic…no offense.”

“None taken King Eliot, but I wouldn’t let any harm come to King Quentin, I swear on my life.” Calix took a step closer, placing his hand over his heart. Eliot wanted to object, but he could see the sincerity behind Calix’s words.

“Oh I know! You could take the mirrors,” Fen interjected.

Rafe placed a hand on Fen’s shoulder and turned to the monarchs with excitement. “Yes! Why didn’t I think of that before?!”

“Mirrors?” Margo questioned, not understanding what they were talking about.

“They are two small mirrors that can act as communicators under the right enchantments. They are rare and difficult to find, because it takes nearly ten years just to make one set. We are lucky enough to have one,” Heloise explained patiently.

“So old school face time. Brilliant.” Margo smirked, but leaned back in her chair relaxed. She was onboard with this crazy idea, and it was only Eliot left to convince.

“What is face time?” Fen furrowed her brows confused at the strange phrase.

“That’s not important.” Eliot waved his hand and studied Quentin’s face carefully. “Are you sure about this Q?” His friend was still grieving over the loss of Alice and Eliot needed to be certain he was thinking rationally.

“Yes.” Quentin nodded as confidently as he could.

Eliot sighed, knowing there was no talking Quentin out of his idea. “Fine, but I want updates every night.”

Quentin rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

Quentin gave Margo a quick hug goodbye, before turning to Eliot. The older magician opened his arms and Quentin stepped into his embrace. “Why is it every time I get you back, you go wandering off again?” Eliot mumbled into Quentin’s ear.

“I have to do it, for Fillory.”

“I know.” Eliot kissed Quentin’s forehead and placed a hand onto his cheek. “Please be safe.”

“Aren’t I always,” Quentin quipped cheekily which made Eliot glare at him. “Okay okay, I’ll try.”

“I guess that’s the best you can do. Calix,” Eliot called across the room. “My warning from before is still in effect.”

“I understand. If you’ll excuse me there’s a few things I must do to prepare for our journey.”

As Calix left, Quentin spotted Eliot staring after him and nudged him playfully. “Hey eyes off my assistant.”

Eliot laughed and with one last hug he let go of Quentin. Turning toward Rafe and Fen, he begun a discussion on the agricultural books they had found and possible solutions to the food crisis. Quentin watched from a distance with a warm feeling in his chest, then left to go pack himself.

It was little over an hour later when Calix arrived in his room, interrupting his packing. “Hey, I’m almost packed!” Quentin called out from inside his closet.

“No worries Sire, take your time.” Calix settled onto the bed folding Quentin’s clothes more neatly before placing them into his bag.

“Where did you go?” Quentin asked curiously, caring an armful of items in his arms including his Fillory books.

“Oh, I had to go say goodbye to my son and pack a few of my things to bring with me.”

“You have a son?”

“Yes, he is turning five soon.” Calix redirected the conversation, distracted by his worries for traveling to a strange place. “What is Earth like?”

“It’s like Fillory only louder, more polluted, billions more people, and trouble everywhere you turn.” Quentin said sarcastically, but quickly backtracked when Calix looked up at him concerned. “I’m joking, it’s not that bad, mostly. There are many things different there, but it doesn’t make it better just…different. I’ll be with you the entire time so don’t worry about that.”

Calix nodded thoughtfully. “Before I forget here is the mirror.” He handed over a small rectangular piece of glass wrapped in a velvet cloth.

“How does it work?” Quentin held up the mirror to the light seeing nothing but his reflection looking back at him.

“There is a rune carved into the top right corner, you need to touch it and push a little of your magic into it while saying ‘ _aktivieren sie_.’ The other mirror should buzz until it’s activated as well.”

Quentin carefully wrapped the mirror back in the cloth and placed it into his bag. After packing a few more things, he glanced around the room to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything important. “Alright I think that’s it.”

“Ready to go my King?” Calix stood up and headed toward the door.

Quentin nodded hesitantly, biting his lip. “Almost, there’s something I need to do first.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo....I know I said I'd update every other day and well obviously that was a lie. I'm so sorry but my job took some time to get use to but hopefully I'll have more time (ish) to write. Have no fear, I actually have this whole story outlined it just a matter of you know...actually writing it. 
> 
> Anyhoo, here is the next chapter!! It was suppose to be a filler chapter and turned into a practical saga. oops.Hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Edited: 9/29/2019

“Hi Alice.” Quentin murmured softly, kneeling in the soft grass in front of her grave.

Eliot and Margo did a remarkable job at setting up a beautiful spot for her eternal rest. A small garden covered in pretty purple hyacinths and poppies surrounded the area that gently swayed in the light breeze. Welded upon her gravestone was a glass horse figurine and the words ‘Queen Alice the Wise’. Perhaps the best part of the whole memorial, was the life-sized statue of Alice sitting on a bench holding open a book.

Quentin stared around the grave site, playing with a blade of grass between his hands. He had asked Calix to bring him here before they left in search of a god to fix the Wellspring. “I’m…I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save you. I should have been the one to face Martin not you.” Quentin cried tangling his fists into the ground. “If I hadn’t—” Closing his eyes he could still hear her screams ringing in his head. 

“We found the castle’s library, it was in Martin’s study this whole time. You wouldn’t believe the number of books we have now. Granted compared to Brakebills’ collection it’s nothing, but we have some impressive ones you would have loved.” Quentin let out a watery laugh.

A bird gracefully flew down from the branches and landed on the bench, watching Quentin curiously. “Things are getting complicated here, and I just know you would’ve solved half this world’s problems by now.”

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Quentin wiped the tears from his face. “I’m going to fix the wellspring Alice, I’m going to fix magic. For you, for Fillory, for everyone. I have to.” A warm blew across Quentin’s face like a gentle caress.

Quentin stood up and took Alice’s necklace out of his pocket. He kissed the cool surface of the pendant, and then draped it over the statues neck. Casting a quick charm, a bushel of lavenders popped up in front of Alice’s headstone, her favorite flower. “Goodbye Alice.”

Quentin walked away with a heavy heart, resisting the urge to lay by her grave and never move. Fixing the Wellspring was the only thing keeping him going, and with that in mind he met Calix back at the castle steps, where he said he would be once he was done saying his goodbyes.

Silently he pulled out the Fillory button and held it out, on the count of three they touched the button simultaneously and zapped back to earth.

It was strange being back at Brakebills without all of his friends, the campus felt emptier and lonelier. The first thing Quentin did was change out of his Fillorian outfit and into his old familiar clothes, much to the dismay of Calix. After shoving a few more of his belongings into his magically expandable bag, they made their way to the library.

Splitting up, they searched for any reference to the gods. The library was extensive and it took them nearly three hours to comb through not even half of the shelves. After collecting a few volumes, the two settled at a table, flipping through the books they had found.

Unfortunately, the books weren’t very helpful and they mostly referenced the myths and old legends surrounding the gods. It was hard to tell what could be true or not as much of the information contradicted itself. The only thing they did agree on was that the oldest gods hadn’t been seen in centuries, and even the minor one’s were extremely difficult to find.

“Great.” Quentin groaned slamming the book he had been reading shut with a huff. “There is nothing here.” He had no more motivation to continue looking through the rest of the library.

Calix too had found nothing of use and suggested a new strategy. “Surely, there are other places on Earth that could have the information we need. Perhaps a more specialized shop.”

“I guess.” Quentin remembered a place Alice had mention that sold rare magical texts. “I think I know just where to go, but you’re going to need some new clothes.”

While New Yorkers were typically very liberal and people dressed strangely was becoming the norm, Quentin thought it would be best to blend in rather than stick out. Calix’s Fillorian clothing would definitely draw attention. Calix was much taller than Quentin therefore none of his clothes would fit the older man and they would have to go shopping.

Heading into the city, they first stopped at a thrift shore so Calix could pick out an outfit or two. So far, Calix was amazed by this strange new land. He couldn’t get over the lights, moving vehicles, and the sheer number of people crammed into one city. When they went into the subway, Calix nearly fell over at the fast pace and almost got separated by Quentin, only managing to keep track by clinging onto his arm.

At the thrift shop, he couldn’t believe the amount of clothes that were readily available. In Fillory it took a seamstress about a week to put together a single outfit, and these clothes at the thrift shop were items people were throwing out! When they were checking out, he didn’t understand how a small piece of plastic could be considered money and got even more confused when Quentin tried explaining how the system works. Earth was indeed a very strange place.

After their impromptu shopping trip, Quentin typed in the address to the book store into his phone and led the way a few blocks over to the shop. Upon entering the store, it was as though they had been sent back in time. The store was dusty and dark with only oil lanterns lighting the room. Books were stacked haphazardly around the small space and Quentin groaned thinking it would take ages to go through the books.

“We should ask the bookkeeper for help.” Calix remarked not knowing where to begin searching.

“What bookkeeper?” Quentin asked looking around the empty store. Calix shrugged his shoulders and walked up to the front desk ringing the bell that was left there.

“Greetings.” A old whispery voice sounded from their left. The man appeared to be ancient with an equally old-fashioned suit on. “How can I assist you today?”

Quentin jumped when the bookkeeper appeared out of nowhere. “Um…we are looking for a book on the gods. Preferably telling us how to find one.”

The bookkeeper gave Quentin a piercing look before asking, “Hm…are you sure that’s what you are searching for?”

“Yes?” Quentin replied, sharing a confused look with Calix.

“The information you seek is no longer here, it was taken years ago,” The bookkeeper replied, turning to run a dust feather over a cobweb corner.

“By who?” Calix asked.

“The very beings you wish to find.”

“The gods? How long ago did they say where—” Quentin began before he was interrupted.

“At ease young quester, they came and went many years ago before your grandparents were even born.” The bookkeeper grimaced, sending Quentin an apologetic nod. “I did not mean to give you false hope.”

“How did you know we were on a quest?” Calix asked sternly, hand on a small sword he had in his messenger bag.

The bookkeeper let out a wheezing laugh. “My boy who isn’t on a quest now a days.”

Suddenly, Quentin’s phone rang out disturbing the peace. “Sorry!” He winced at the bookkeepers disapproving glare and fumbled to grab the phone out of his pocket. “Hello?”

“Quentin! Thank goodness, it’s Dan Quinn.” His voice was muffled by loud noises in the background. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a few days now.”

“Sorry about that. Is everything okay?” Quentin winced, of course everything wasn’t fucking okay, his daughter was dead.

“A young woman named Margo, I believe, came to us two weeks ago to inform us of our daughters passing—No the ice sculptures and fire breathers have to go on separate sides of the room!” Dan called out to a faceless person on his side. “Sorry about that, where was I? Oh yes…the memorial is tomorrow, and we’d really like for you to be there.”

Quentin tightened his hold on the phone. “O-oh, right. I um. Yeah I guess can be there.” He didn’t really want to go but he felt like he owed it to them, after all it was his fault Alice was dead.

“Wonderful!” Dan let out a relieved sigh. “This has been…well it’ll be nice to see you again. Thank you, Quentin.”

The two chatted a few more minutes exchanging details on when and where Alice’s memorial would be held. Quentin also made sure to get permission to bring Calix to which Dan replied, “The more the merrier,” which was well meaning but out of place given the circumstances.

Empty handed, Calix and Quentin left the bookshop and traveled back to the thrift shop to purchase outfits for them both to wear to the memorial. They stayed in the cottage back at Brakebills but as the hours ticked by Quentin regretted agreeing to go more and more. How could he face the parents of the woman he loved and killed? Is it even okay for him to go? Questions plagued his mind and he got very little sleep.

Bright an early the next day, the two men made their way to the Quinn residence for Alice’s memorial. Quentin adjusted the collar of his tie as he and Calix walked up the steps to the Quinn’s home. It was a cloudy day, Quentin thought it was fitting for what was going on.

Taking a deep breath, Quentin knocked on the door. Immediately, a heavy-set woman opened the door bringing him into a crushing hug. Alarmed Quentin turned to Calix for help but it was no use, the woman noticed Calix standing there and pulled him into the hug as well.

“You must be here for Alice’s memorial. So tragic how she died, we are all terribly heartbroken about it.” The woman released them and blew her nose loudly into a handkerchief. “Oh, where are my manners come in come in!

“I’m Miriam, Alice’s aunt. The food and drinks are in the kitchen, but the whiskey fountain is out back. Alice’s memorial is set up in the living room, if you’d like to leave an offering please do so before the ceremonial burning at two.” With that the strange woman floated off into the sea of black outfits and somber faces.

Looking around the crowded home, Quentin tried to spot Alice’s parents amongst the crowd of strangers. A loud crying voice caught his attention by a clump of women standing in a semi-circle. The two men made there way over and sure enough, Stephanie Quinn was right in the center chugging back a glass of wine.

Spotting the familiar face Stephanie called out slurring, “Quentin you made it! Dan said you would, but I had my doubts.” She got up and leaned heavily against Quentin, spilling some wine onto his back.

Gripping her shoulders, he pried her away and took a step back. “Stephanie, I’m so sorry about Alice’s death.”

“Yeah so am I…Of course, if she ever told us anything we could of helped her.” Stephanie took another gulp of her wine emptying it completely. “But that was just Alice, Miss independent. She hasn’t needed me since she learned how to walk.”

“Right well um…I miss her a lot. I can’t imagine how you are feeling.” Quentin said awkwardly trying to dispel the negative tension.

Someone handed Stephanie another glass of wine and she scoffed angrily taking another swig. “I’m surprised she has friends that miss her. Actually, Quentin to tell you the truth I was surprised the first time she brought you around. I thought she would be friendless forever with her nose stuck in a book.”

Quentin was torn between wanting to scream at Stephanie or running away and jumping off the nearest cliff. Calix gently placed a hand on his shoulder reminding him that he wasn’t alone there.

“I’m too young to be dealing with this shit. Both of my children are dead.” Stephanie broke down sobbing and a swarm of women surround her and pulling her away, leaving a guilty Quentin behind.

“Are all parents of Earth like that?” Calix asked confused by the woman’s strange behavior.

“No definitely not. Stephanie is…unique.” Quentin knew of Alice’s difficult relationship with her mother, but he could tell that despite her cruel words she was truly devastated by the death of her child.

The crowd had thinned out considerably following Stephanie’s breakdown and Quentin was able to spot Dan Quinn sitting on the couch holding a picture frame in his hands. “Hey, I’m going to talk to Dan, but I’ll be back shortly. Why don’t you go get some food?”

Quentin walked over to the grieving father and saw the picture he was holding was of the father and daughter from at least ten years ago. Quentin choked back his guilt and sat down onto the couch next to him. “Mr. Quinn—I mean Dan. How are you doing?”

“Quentin,” Dan sighed sadly. “I wish I could say I was doing better.”

“I’m so sorry for your daughter’s death, but you should know she died a hero. If not for her a whole bunch of people, including myself, would be dead. Although after thinking about it that might not be what you want to hear right now, but um if there’s anything I can do…” Quentin rambled on. He was never good at consoling people.

“You’re a good man. I’m glad Alice found you even if things didn’t work out in the end…” A tear ran down Dan’s grief-stricken face and he brushed his fingers over his daughter’s image.

Quentin felt like his throat was closing up and the need to get out of there surmounted. Making an excuse he dashed outside to a quiet spot and leaned against a tree at the edge of their property, trying to take deep breaths.

“Are you okay my King?” Calix asked gently. He had been keeping an eye on Quentin’s mental status and followed immediately when his King left the home in distress.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Quentin laughed bitterly. “No, I’m not okay.” He said, his voice thick with emotion. “None of this is okay. They shouldn’t have to mourn another child. Alice shouldn’t have died. Fuck, do you have any idea how hard this is?”

Calix’s jaw tensed and he looked off into the distance. “Yes I do. I lost my wife five years ago.”

“Fuck Calix. I’m sorry, I had no idea." The urge to punch himself in the face had never been stronger. "What was her name?”

“Lorelei, she was a beautiful woman. Despite being a few years older than me we found true happiness and were married for many years.” Calix smiled sadly.

“How did she die?” Quentin asked curiously. “Wait no fuck, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

Calix sighed heavily. “We spent many years trying to get pregnant and it wasn’t until her mid forties that she finally was with child. We were overjoyed when we first heard the news. However, her body couldn’t handle the strain and there were several complications through the pregnancy. Our son was born prematurely, and she died during childbirth.” 

Quentin was beginning to really like the other man’s company and was filled with remorse for bringing up the sensitive topic. “Shit I’m so sorry Calix.”

“It is fine my King.” Calix waved off Quentin apologies. “Our son, Thaddeus, is my whole life.”

The two stood in contemplative silence, lost in their own thoughts. “Does it get easier?” Quentin asked.

“Yes and no. Sometimes I’ll go about my day and I’ll see something that reminded me of her, and I realize with great guilt, if only for a moment, I had forgotten about her,” Calix responded honestly. “Other days I’m filled with so much grief I don’t know how I’ll ever go on without her.

“You will grieve and somedays will be harder than others, but life goes on. That is one of the greatest truths and burdens of this life. Remember but move on, do not let the painful moments of your history consume you,” Calix warned. He wished he had someone telling him this when he first lost his wife and hoped it would help the young King.

“Thanks Calix.” Quentin appreciated his honesty and in a way it helped knowing he had one more person he could talk to who could relate. “Hmmm history…Alice’s dad loves history! He’ll probably know something about the gods.” This sudden epiphany struck Quentin and he hoped Mr. Quinn would be willing to help him.

Luck was on their side for once and Dan was willing to tell them all he knew about the gods. It was a welcomed distraction for him and a chance to get away from his suffocating grief. He ushered the men into his study, and they sat down onto the comfortable couches.

Unfortunately, Dan didn't know much more they did but he did share some valuable information. The gods were a heavily debated topic in the history world, and several theories circulated as to why the gods seemingly disappeared. Some say that humanity was an experiment by the gods, but they got bored and simply left or they decided it was too complicated to mess with human affairs. Others more cynical claimed that they saw us racing toward our own demise and abandoned us to our doom.

Still hope was not all lost. There were rumors that some of the gods send servants and messengers in their place when summoned by certain people. Additionally, there were minor gods with limited powers that still interacted with humans frequently. However, those gods were fickle beings and loved messing with humans.

"Okay um…How do we summon a messenger or whatever?" Quentin asked tiredly. Every time they come close to an answer, a million more problems popped up.

"Well most of the ways I know of involve animal and or human sacrifices." Dan scratched his beard, trying to recall all he knew. "Of course, most are just rumors at this point so who knows if it would actually work."

"Animal sacrifice, okay we can do that. What kind of animals?" Calix asked calmly. He frequently went hunting for his family and was prepared to do anything to help his country.

Quentin on the other hand paled and his stomach recoiled at the thought of any kind of animal sacrifice. "No no no. Let's not jump straight to killing innocent animals just yet okay."

Calix let out a small laugh which he disguised with a cough. “Is there anything else you can think of?” He asked turning to Dan.

"Hmmm there was some talk that the god Bacchus passed through an orgy Stephanie and I once attended." Dan confessed without embarrassment.

"You don’t remember,” Quentin whined. “But you were there.”

Dan flashed Quentin an amused smirk. “Quentin when your balls deep in a gorgeous incubus and your wife is—"

“That's okay I don’t want to know the details.” Quentin quickly cut off any more talk on that subject. “Bacchus…that name sounds familiar.”

“Perhaps you read the name in one of those books back at Brakebills?” Calix suggested.

“That’s it! Well no not the books but I think I know someone who can help us.” Quentin stood up and walked over to Dan, shaking his hand warmly. “Thank you Dan I’m sorry to rush out of here so quickly but we really need to go.” Standing up, Dan pulled Quentin into a tight hug and wished them luck on their search.

On the way back to Brakebills, Quentin explained to Calix that Josh Hoberman often talked about crazy parties he’d been to and the name Bacchus frequently came up. They found Josh under a tree smoking a joint, he told them how he met the god at a party and more importantly how to find him. “Bacchus can be found at the wildest and best parties in the city, and I just so happen to know where one will be tonight.”

“Great! Can you take us!? We really need to speak with him.” Quentin briefly explained to him their situation, hoping he could help.

Letting out a low whistle in surprise, Josh agreed to help. “Sure, I’m always down for a good party!”

Josh led them through a sketchy building back in the city, that looked ready to collapse at any moment. However, even Quentin knew they were at the right place as the smell of weed was thick in the air and the loud music could be heard from several floors below. Josh greeted Bacchus warmly when he opened the door, but Quentin and Calix were denied entrance for not being “fun enough.”

Thinking fast, Quentin noticed the smoke pouring out from under the door, he cast an elaborate spell that charmed all the smoke to turn into exotic animals that danced around to the music. The door slowly opened and there stood Bacchus, slowly clapping and inviting them in.

The second they walked through the doors they were assault with booming headache inducing noise and bright flashing lights. Bacchus handed them both a shot glass filled with a violently purple alcoholic drink. Not wanting to offend the god, they both swallowed down the ridiculously strong liquor, wincing at the sharp burn once it hit their throats. Three more shots were consumed in a similar manner before Bacchus was satisfied.

Calix observed the party with growing horror. He was unused to the Earth customs and within the first ten minutes saw things he didn’t understand nor wanted to. The clothing here was far from the customary Fillorian fashion and he saw more flesh than he thought was possible through strips of cloth masquerading as clothing. The music was louder than he ever experienced, and he could feel the vibrations throughout his body. Off in the corner he stared transfixed as two women sniffed some kind of white powder off each other’s bodies, before making out heavily.

“Stay here!” Quentin screamed over the loud music. “I’m going to try to talk to Bacchus.” He stumbled off, the strong alcohol already affected him.

Nearly thirty minutes had passed, and Quentin was no closer to getting Bacchus’ attention. The god kept evading his questions and disappearing into the crowds of gyrating bodies. He decided to consult the experts and stepped outside the apartment into the hallway. Grabbing the communication mirror out of his bag, he activated it and impatiently waited for someone to pick up.

“ELIOT! MARGO!” Quentin screamed louder than he intended to, and the magicians in question winced at his loud volume.

“Hey Q, how’s the mission going?” Margo asked.

“Good good good. Hey um, I wanted to ask you something, but I can’t forget…I mean remember. Hahaha.” Quentin giggled and leaned heavily against the wall, the alcohol really hitting him, not to mention the contact high he definitely had.

“Are you drunk?” Eliot grabbed the mirror from Margo’s hands and stared at Quentin. “Where is Calix?! Why isn’t he with you? I knew I shouldn’t have let you go off with only him for protection.”

“That’s not important now,” Quentin replied, his words slurring. “OH! I remember. We visited Alice’s parents for the memorial and her dad told us about a minor god called Bacchus and then Josh helped us find him! But the asshole won’t listen to me and so how do I get his attention?”

Margo grabbed the mirror back from Eliot with a scowl. “Did you say Bacchus? As in The Party God Instagram star?”

“Yes! You know him too?”

“I follow him on Instagram, I had no clue he was an actual fucking god.” Margo missed her having access to her phone, but the magic in the air interfered with the technology too much.

“Yup he’s a god with a god complex haha get it!” Quentin laughed hysterically at his own joke but his mood turned sour fast. “Oh Margo, thanks for um…telling Alice’s parents about her, um just thanks for telling them,” Quentin said choking up. His emotions were all over the place, especially in his intoxicated state.

Margo face softened as she looked at Quentin with concern. “Of course Q. How are you doing?” She knew that he was incapable of lying whenever he was drunk, so if she wanted an honest answer now would be the time.

Quentin just shrugged his shoulders and said, “I’m not sure, I’m refusing to let myself think about it. It’s just too fucking much for me to handle right now…” Quentin trailed off sadly.

“Hey Q,” Eliot interjected wanting to distract him before he could become distracted again. “I think I know how to help you. Make him my signature cocktail, that always works for me.”

“That’s just because you’re so pretty El,” Quentin revealed drunkenly. “But I’ll give it a shot.”

After learning the instructions to make the drink, Quentin said his goodbyes and hung up. He returned to the party just in time to save Calix from the literal hands of the horny partygoers. “King Quentin! Thank god!” He exclaimed relieved. His shirt was already halfway off, and lipstick smears were covering his face and neck.

The men and women surrounding Calix quickly backed off after Quentin sent a small electric shock to them. Pulling Calix away, they pushed through the crowd toward to the open bar and crafted the special drink.

They waited until Bacchus passed by and Quentin jumped in front of the god. “Hey! I made you this drink in your honor. It’s the best drink known to magicians.” He handed Bacchus the glass and watched nervously as the god took a tentative sip.

“Fuck man, that is seriously the best damn drink I’ve ever had and trust me I’ve had a lot!” Bacchus took a bigger sip of the drink and moaned in delight. “Okay dude, you have my attention. What’s up?”

Quentin wished Eliot was there so he could praise him for his brilliant drink making skills. “Okay so basically the Wellspring is broken—"

“Shit really?? How did you manage that?” Bacchus laughed loudly, drawing the attention of several people.

“I didn’t break it! Ember did!” Quentin cried insulted by the accusation. “Anyway, we thought since the spring was created by gods it could only be fixed by them and we were wondering if you could be the one to fix it.”

Bacchus tilted his head, studying the desperate man with a calculating look. “Alright Coldwater, here’s what I’m going to do.” The god set his glass down onto the thin air, held up by magic, and clapped his hands. “I will try to help you fix your precious spring if you get me a few things”

“What things?” Quentin asked hesitantly.

“A few small things here and there. No biggie.” The god responded evasively.

Calix looked at the god suspiciously, distrustful of his vague answers. “Why can’t you get them yourself?”

“They need to be collected by human hands,” Bacchus said as though the answer should have been obvious.

Quentin sighed. “Where do we need to go to find these things?” He should have known the god wouldn’t just help them out with no strings attached.

“Look, you ask a lot of damn questions for someone who needs my help. If you don’t want to do it fine. You’ll just have to find another god to help you. Later!” Bacchus grabbed his drink from the air and began walking way. Before he got to far, Quentin and Calix silently agreed to play along and stopped the god from leaving.

“No wait fine…seeing as we have no other choice.” Quentin glared at the god. “How do we find these things you need oh so desperately.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bacchus slapped Quentin on the back heavily almost sending him sprawling to the ground. “Since I’m so generous, I’ll give you a map that will help you travel faster and tell you everything you need to know.”

The god handed Quentin a world map, and the moment Quentin touched it, a wave of magic washed over him and Calix. Studying the map, a bright spot was shining in a specific location. “Wait, what the fuck? This says the first thing is in Africa!?” Before Quentin could say another word, both he and Calix were transported out of sight.

The second they flashed out, Bacchus dropped his obnoxious façade. He silently glanced around at the humans still lost in their own drug and alcohol induced hazes. It was a little-known fact that he wasn’t just the god of revelry, but also a god to those that were lost and tossed aside by society. Those parties he threw always drew in those who were desperate to feel a little less alone in the world, even if it was only temporary.

Stepping out onto the balcony, he placed the drink Quentin gave him onto the ledge and lit a cigarette, watching as the smoke rose into the atmosphere. Times like this mentally wore him down and Bacchus could feel the weight of his many many years. There was only so much he could do due to the limits placed on his powers. Taking another deep drag, he exhaled slowly and whispered into the cold night air, “Good luck Coldwater, a lot of people are counting on you.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 10/5/2019

 

Did you ever have to do that that science experiment as a kid where you forced an egg through the opening of a glass bottle? It was a simple but effective way of showing how one could manipulate the air pressure inside the bottle with a lit match to create vacuum pressure that would suck the egg into the bottle.

Well traveling by strange map magic curtesy of Bacchus the god of Fuck You™, felt exactly like that. Except in this bizarre instance the egg was a human being and the opening was the size of a pea. The pressure the sensation created was so strong it was as though your insides were being sucked out of your bellybutton and you were turned inside out. Pleasant right?

“SON OF A BITCH!” Quentin screamed as he collapsed onto the hard ground once they popped back into existence. He barely had time to catch his breath when a few seconds later Calix landed right on top of him knocking the wind out of Quentin’s lungs. A cloud of dust filled the air and they coughed roughly, gasping for breath after their turbulent traveling.

“Are we actually in Africa right now?” Calix asked as he examined the savannah environment that surrounded them, vastly different than the city apartment they left moments ago. Not to mention, it was about fifty degrees warmer and they were already sweating in the suits they never changed out of after the memorial.

Quentin quickly transfigured their clothes into something more appropriate for the sweltering tropical climate and cast a rudimentary cooling charm over them. Reaching over to his left, he retrieved the piece of paper that fluttered from his hands during his rough landing. “According to this map we are actually in Burkina Faso, Africa…” Quentin trailed off blinking rapidly. “If we ever see that dick again, I’m going to punch him in his fucking face.”

Brushing the dust off his clothes, Quentin got up and helped Calix up from the dirty ground. After handing the map over to Calix, he tied his hair back into a bun to keep it from sticking uncomfortably to his face.

They had sobered up quickly after the magical travel. Which, given the circumstances, was probably a good thing considering they were in a strange country with very little preparation. The only things they had were their bags they came to Earth with and even that was definitely inadequate for this big quest they suddenly found themselves on.

“Um…Sire, have you read what we are here to collect?” Calix asked hesitantly studying the map more carefully.

“Please tell me it’s something simple like he said it would be.”

Calix laughed ruefully and said, “Not quite…Unless you find collecting the venom from a snake to be simple.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Quentin groaned. He glared up at the sky and wished nothing but pain and suffering upon Bacchus, wherever the bastard was.

Calix continued to deliver more bad news to the overwhelmed King. “More specifically we need fifteen milligrams of venom from some kind of snake called a Runespoor.” Quentin let out an angry scream and kicked a nearby tree out of frustration. Calix watched amused and said, “I’m taking it you are familiar with the species.”

“Runespoors are highly magical snakes and are extremely dangerous. It has three heads and one bite can be fatal to a hippopotamus let alone a measly human.”

“Oh. Fuck,” Calix stated with shock, his eyes wide open.

When Calix turned to admire the landscape that was unlike anything he’d seen back in Fillory, a flash of light caught Quentin's eye. The glint was from the shiny metal zipper attached to a bag on Calix’s back he definitely didn’t have before. They opened it up cautiously and were relieved to find a simple tent and some minimal supplies such as a small first aid kit, a canteen for holding water, a hunting knife, and four glass jars. If this was Bacchus’ attempt to help them in the shitty and vague way that was his specialty, then they were grateful for it. It didn’t detract from the fact that they were still pissed at the god, but they both agreed it could have been worse.

Observing their surroundings, they couldn’t help but notice, despite their circumstances, how beautiful the landscape was. There were tall grasses golden in the sun with spots of green scattered throughout the planes. In the distance, small mountain formations stretched toward the sky breaking the seemingly endless horizon.

The two men didn’t think they’d find the snake on the first try but nonetheless they decide to set off toward the mountain. A river flowing slowly crossed their path and they took the time to fill up their canteen with water Quentin purified with a simple spell.

The sun was setting lower in the sky casting dark shadows on the land when Calix advised they stop and set up for the night. While he set up their small tent, Quentin walked around the campsite and drew a 20-foot perimeter in the sand, setting a few wards to keep predators away. It was too late to go hunting for any food so the two settled down for the night in front of the fire Calix expertly started for them.

“King Quentin—” Calix said turning toward Quentin.

Quentin cringed at the formal title. “Please just call me Quentin.” He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to being a King or if he’d even be good at it. Just another thing to worry about later...much later.

“As you wish.” Calix gave in knowing it would make the other man feel less uncomfortable. “You should probably call the High King and Queen and let them know about the deviation in our plan.”

“Ugh,” Quentin groaned rolling over in the sand to fetch the communication mirror. “I hate that you’re right.”

He activated the mirror and he was met with the sight of Margo’s bare chest as she laid back in her bath. “Christ Margo!” He adverted his eyes, flushing with embarrassment. “I can call you back later if now’s a bad time.”

“Please Q, stop acting like a blushing virgin, it’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before,” Margo replied casually causing Quentin to blush when Calix sent him an inquisitive stare.

“Still!” Quentin exclaimed running a hand through his hair.

Margo rolled her eyes but placed a towel over her chest to appease him. “Were you like this with Alice? Because may I remind you, she had way bigger tits then me.”

You know it might come as a shock to you, but I don’t particularly want to talk about the breasts of my dead ex-girlfriend. All right?” Quentin sighed and wondered why he decided that being friends with Margo was a good idea.

“What’s going on then? I’m assuming you didn’t call to interrupt my bath.”

“I didn’t know you where going to be taking a bath! That’s not the point.” Quentin rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “So, Eliot’s drink worked like a charm and Bacchus agreed to help on one condition. We kinda need to go pick up a few things for him.”

“What things?” Margo demanded suspicious by his vague tone.

“Well that’s where it gets a bit um complicated.” Quentin licked his lips nervously, while he decided how best to break the news of their new quest. “We don’t exactly know what we need to get or where they are but wearecurrentlyinaffricalookingforarunespoortogetit’svenom and wedon’tknowwherewemayhavetogonext.”

“You want to say that last part again?”

Quentin winced at her sharp tone. “I’d rather not.”

“Quentin!” Margo called, glaring at Quentin through the mirror.

“Okay fine!” Quentin took a deep breath. “We are currently in A-Africa looking for a Runespoor to get it’s venom and…um we don’t know where we may have to go next.”

Margo’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “What the fuck Q?” She sat up straight in her bath, no longer relaxed.

“I know! It’s bad, but we didn’t have a choice Margo,” Quentin tried to make her understand, he was doing this for the Wellspring.

“Fuck!” Margo screeched suddenly slapping her hand into her bathwater, causing both Calix and Quentin to jump in surprise. “I so don’t want to be the one to tell El this shit.”

“How is he doing?” Quentin asked desperate for news and to change the subject.

Margo smirked and snickered under her breath. “Currently he is up to his knees in shit.”

Quentin had one hand reaching toward his bag for the button, seconds away from coming back to Fillory. “What? Why? Is everything okay?” He asked frantically.

“Oh relax. I meant literally up to his knees in shit. Eliot took over the agriculture issues and is out handing bags of shit to all the farmers to use as fertilizer.” Margo gave up on her bath and got out. Quentin once again averted his eyes from the way Margo shamelessly flaunted her naked body. She propped up the mirror on her dresser and continued talking with Quentin as she got dressed. “He took a few magicians with him so they can kickstart the growth process in order to get a head start on our food supply, before the lack of magic really kicks our asses.”

“Huh, I never knew Eliot knew that much about farming.” An image of Eliot dressed in a plaid shirt and overalls, popped into his mind and he resisted the urge to laugh aloud. “What are you up to Margo?”

“I’m off to yet another council meeting. The S.a.f.e. and I are still debating what to do with the dick wad who almost killed El.” Margo was tired of talking around in circles with nothing getting accomplished. “Our top three choices are execution, keeping him indefinitely in our prison, or banishing him from Fillory forever. Fen wanted to use his body to sharpen her knives and for target practice…she’s surprisingly bloodthirsty.”

Quentin tried to imagine the sweet woman he had met briefly with as a bloodthirsty knife-throwing psycho and couldn’t picture it. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, “Keep me updated on that situation but I’m all for banishing him forever. If you send him to the bottom of Death Valley you could kill two birds with one stone.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Margo laughed gently. “Well I’m off puppy. Have fun catching a killer snake.” She winked and deactivated the mirrors.

After putting away the mirror, Quentin took out the map searching for any hidden clues. The map showed them the general vicinity of where the snake might be, but since it frequently moved that range was five miles wide in both directions. The map also told them their current location and the small writing in the top corner said “ _1/4._ ” They figured that meant they were searching for four items total.

 

Over the next couple of days, the two questers settled into a routine. After waking up to the bright sun, they would eat a quick breakfast then set off in the scorching African savannah searching for the Runespoor.

For something that had three heads, was bright orange and black, and averaging at about six feet in length it was surprisingly difficult to find. They had been wandering around for a week without any success other than a few orange scales in the sand from a snake that was long gone.

When they weren’t on their crazy hunting mission, Calix spent the time patiently teaching Quentin how to fish. Quentin was able to transfigure a crude fishing pole for them to use but it was mostly Calix’s talents that got them food. They developed a system so that while one person fished the other was on the lookout for alligators.

On top of searching for a dangerous snake, they had to be wary of the other natural predators that roamed the land. The wards Quentin put in placed helped while they were asleep but during the daytime, they had to be careful. Going back to the campsite before the sunset completely was one of the best ways to hide from stealthy nocturnal creatures hungry for their next meal.

One particular evening they had wandered farther away than usual following a promising trail of orange scales. Calix watched nervously as the sun set lower and lower in the sky. “Sire, we need to go back soon.”

“It’ll be fine, I think we are getting close.” Quentin bent down to study the tracks in the dirt.

A mighty snarl filled the air and a spotted hyena jumped out from the brush and tackled Quentin to the ground. It swiped at Quentin’s face with its heavy paw and sharp claws and managed to cut three gashes into his face. Quentin was struggling to shove the beast off of him, but the animal's brute strength kept him pinned down. The hyena snapped at his face and Quentin was barely able to keep it from ripping his throat out. The animal’s breath smelt of death and decay and Quentin prayed that wouldn’t be the last thing he experienced before he died.

The second the beast attacked, Calix armed himself with his sword and the hunting knife, but he can’t get a clear shot without also hurting Quentin in the process. Thinking fast, he picked up a large branch and with a mighty swing, he struck the animal off of Quentin. Quentin was then able to blast it a way with a quick spell and with a pained yelp, the hyena dashed away back to where it came from.

“Quick! We need to get back NOW!” Calix bellowed, dragging Quentin to his feet. “Hyenas don’t normally travel in packs, but there still could be some lingering around.”

Sure enough, the moment they took off running, several more hyenas began chasing after them lured in by the loud noises and the smell of blood. Adrenalin coursed through their veins as they pushed themselves to run faster, dodging any obstacles in their path.

A hyena managed to get ahead of the pack and snapped at Calix’s heels. Quentin sent an electric shock toward the animal which bought them enough time to cross into the wards of their campsite. The hyenas circled around the invisible barrier trying to gain access. They kept at it for several more minutes but when they failed to reach their prey, they ran off back into the darkness.

Clutching their sides, they fell to the ground breathing heavily. Quentin did a quick scan of his body and discovered his clothes had been torn leaving behind shallow scratches covering his arms and legs. Additionally, the three gashes on his face were still bleeding heavily and needed to be closed before an infection could set in.

Sitting in front of the fire for light, he was able to cast a small healing spell on his minor cuts. Calix expertly helped Quentin with his bigger cuts that needed a few butterfly stitches to stop the bleeding and close the wounds properly.

“You saved my life out there today…thank you.” Quentin said awkwardly sitting on his hands to keep from scratching at his stitches.

“It’s no problem. When I became your assistant, I took a solemn vow to protect you.” Calix was proud that he was able to show Quentin he could protect him. “Not to mention I’m terrified of what Eliot would do to me if you got hurt under my watch.”

Quentin wanted to protest that he didn’t need protection, but the evening’s adventure spoke against him. “What did Eliot say to you?” He asked curiously tilting his head in confusion.

Calix chuckled lightly, moving around the campsite gathering up their supplies to cook up some fish for their dinner. “More like threaten me with bodily harm and disembowelment if anything happened to you. He is quite protective over you.”

Feeling his face heat up, Quentin was thankful Calix couldn’t see how red his face must have been in the dim light. “Yeah well he’s a really good um friend.” He flushed even darker when Calix shot him a look arching his eyebrow. “We should eat and then get some sleep, it’s been along ass day.”

The next morning, they once again set off in the same direction they traveled the day before hoping the snake hadn’t traveled far overnight. In the daytime they felt safe from the hyenas but remained cautious just in case.

Pushing their way through the tall grasses, Quentin lead the way toward a small rock formation they hoped would bring them luck. Quentin turned back around to check on Calix and froze instantly. “Calix,” he whispered tensely. “Don’t move.”

Behind Calix, hanging off a tree branch was the very snake they were searching for. All three of its heads stared at them with piercing green eyes.

 “Thiss iss what you brought uss here for? A couple of sscrawny humanss, they’ll barely make a decent meal.” The right head hissed irritated.

The left head snapped its jaw at the third head. “I know what I’m doing,” it grumbled.

Calix slowly backed away from the snake and moved toward Quentin. The snakes watched unmoving, their tongues flickering into the air. “The left head is said to be in charge of planning and the right is the critic.” Quentin whispered to Calix in awe. Studying magical creatures from the pages of books was one thing but actually seeing them in person was indescribable.

“You didn’t mention it could talk!” Calix cried out.

“I forgot about that.” Quentin grimaced and winced at his own stupidity.

“You forgot?! That’s perhaps the most—”

“Shhhh.” The right head scowled. “Sssooo much usssselesssss chatter. You are giving me a migraine.”

Calix gulped, not wanting to anger the dangerous snake, he spoke in a softer tone. “What about the middle one?”

“Um…If I remember correctly the middle head is some sort of mystic.” Quentin raked his brain for all the information he knew, so he wouldn’t accidentally forget any more vital facts.

The middle head had been swaying lazily in the air waving between its other heads when it suddenly jerked forward, stopping inches from Quentin’s face. Calix whipped out the hunting knife in defense.

“Be careful little king.” The head began in a mysterious voice. ‘The handss of fate are weaving their web and you are caught in the middle.”

Calix lowered his knife and frowned at the strange message. “What does that mean?” Quentin could only shrug his shoulders as he stared at the snake transfixed.

“Be ssmart little king, there is ssomething amiss. A greater puzzle to unriddle.” The snake flicked out its tongue and licked the side of Quentin’s face. “Be kind mighty king, keep true to yoursself or the love you find will dwindle.”

The snake slowly lowered itself to the ground and almost slithered back into the brush completely, when Quentin snapped out of his trance. “Wait!” Quentin called out. “Could we possibly have some of your venom, it’s important. You would be helping the fate of all magic.” He pulled out a glass jar with a cloth over the opening and held it out pleadingly.

The snakes looked at each other silently conversing, before the left one bit down sharply on the cloth, its venom filling the glass. The other two took turns until the appropriate amount was collected and they slithered off into the brush.

Quentin closed the lid to the jar, relieved that ordeal was over. However, their grand quest was truly far from over. The second the lid touched the glass, another wave of map magic washed over them and they were transported to their next destination.

* * *

Landing onto some empty cardboard boxes that cushioned their fall, their second location appeared to be in a smelly alleyway. The sounds of heavy traffic could be heard along with some raised voices, though they couldn’t make out the words. Although they were more prepared for the sensation, it didn’t make the traveling experience any less horrible this time around.

Groaning they helped each other up and stretched out the kinks in their muscles. Wherever they were, the temperature was much cooler than it was in Africa. Their bodies broke out in goosebumps and they began to shiver. Quentin transformed their outfits again into something more fitting with the tepid weather, he had a feeling he would master that spell by the end of the stupid quest.

Looking into the magical backpack, god it sounded like they were on an episode of Dora the fucking explorer, they notice the items inside had changed. Now there was some hiking gear and a credit card that apparently belonged to Bacchus. If he left it there for them to use, you bet they were going to take advantage of that and lighten the god’s wallet big time.

Pocketing the card, they follow the noise toward the mouth of the alley and stepped onto the sidewalk in a busy city. Their abrupt appearance interrupted the flow of traffic and caused someone to bump into them. The angry man started screaming at them in a different language before shoving them to the side.

Stepping out of the way they stared around the bustling city in awe. They quickly realized that all the signs were in a different language. Drawing in on his rudimentary language skills, Quentin felt confident that they were somewhere in Japan even without looking at the map.

Ducking into the first café they came across, Quentin introduced Calix to the wonders of caffeine and munched on food that they didn’t have to prepare themselves for the first time in days. Settling in at a table by the window, he took out the map and spread it open on the table.

There was a small indicator blimp hovering over Japan and it showed that ttheir current location was Tokyo. This time the item they were looking for was the _Iris japonica_ but for some reason it didn’t tell them where it was, only showing their current location.

“We could just ask a florist,” Calix suggested. “They might know more about any local fauna.”

“Maybe, but my Japanese is rusty. I only know enough to get by in spell casting.” Pulling out his phone and connecting to the café’s free Wi-Fi, Quentin did a quick search online. According to the internet sources, the Iris they were looking for was a rare and endangered species that can only be found on the side of Mount Fuji and was illegal to sell in stores.

“Why is nothing simple with this fucking god.” Calix cursed uncharacteristically. He was developing some bad habits after spending so much time with the children of Earth.

“Yeah just a bit.” Quentin quipped, wondering why the map didn’t take them directly to the mountain. They’d have to get on a train or bus for two hours, and that in of itself might be difficult to find one running in the mountain’s off season.

The next few hours were spent wandering the streets of Tokyo and drifting in an out of shops that sold sports gear. A few of the store clerks spoke English and were willing to talk to them. That is until they told them they wanted hiking gear equipped to climb Mount Fuji. The climbing season wouldn’t be starting for a few months and no sane person would attempt to climb the fierce mountain until then. The workers would soon demand that the “crazy Americans” leave their shops assuming the strange men were just messing with them or on a suicidal mission.

They eventually managed to find one shop worker that reluctantly told them what they’d need to climb Mount Fuji. After buying a few of the items suggested, they headed back to the streets searching for a place to eat.

“Hey Quentin, I don’t want to alarm you, but I think we’re being followed.” Calix said lowly acting casually to not draw any attention. “That man over there, wearing the leather jacket, has been in every shop we’ve been in.”

Quentin looked over to where Calix was pointing to and easily spotted the man in question. The stranger was a gruff tall man wearing all leather with pale skin and the top of an elaborate tattoo peeking out from the side of his neck. He appeared to be looking through the windows, but Calix was certain he was spying on them through the reflections.

Walking into a large and crowded store, they split up and were able to dodge the strange man and exit the backway, avoiding him all together. Calix suggested they go find somewhere to stay for the night and recuperate from their adventure.

Thanks to Bacchus’ shiny black card they were able to afford a luxury suite at a five-star hotel. After checking in, Quentin ordered room service and they feasted on the finest Japanese cuisine the hotel had to offer. They were able to forget the daunting quest ahead of them and just relaxed enjoying themselves.

Quentin took one final bite of his delicious meal then went to grab the communication mirror out of his bag. “I’m going try and call El and Margo, why don’t you go take a shower while we still have indoor plumbing.” Quentin suggested as he activated the charms and sat back at the table. Calix took his advice and gathered his things before strolling into the bathroom to wash up.

The mirror turned black and then Eliot’s face popped up on the surface. “Why are you calling so early?” He complained groggily.

“It’s 10 at night. Did you just wake up?” Quentin said amused watching Eliot stare blearily back at him.

“Newsflash Q it’s 9 a.m. here and I wanted to sleep in.” Eliot rubbed his eyes. “Wait why is it so late there? Aren’t you in Africa?”

Quentin licked his lips nervously. “Nope,” he said with a pop. “Bacchus sent us to Japan to search for a rare and endangered flower.”

“Ugh I’m so fucking jealous, I’ve always wanted to go there. You are living my life, can we switch.” Eliot complained burying his head in the pillow, bemoaning his fate.

“Shit I’m sorry El.” Quentin apologized feeling guilty. He forgotten that Eliot was bound to Fillory forever and didn’t mean to make him feel bad.

“It’s fine I guess,” Eliot sighed dramatically, his lips quirking slightly. “Don’t worry Q, I’ll just live vicariously through you.”

Quentin propped the mirror onto the table and rested his chin onto his forearms. “How’s life in Fillory?”

“Well no one’s tried to kill me in the last week which just might be a new record for me. Oh, and I am settling in quite nicely to a life of royalty. It rather suits me don’t you think?” Eliot winked at Quentin and smiled when the younger man laughed along.

“Yeah you’ve always been a real royal pain in the ass.” Quentin joked, brushing his hair back from his face.

Eliot zoned in on the three cuts marring Quentin’s face he hadn’t noticed until then. “What happened your face?!” He cried out, his fingers twitched wanting to cast a healing spell.

Quentin bit his lip and turned his head to hide his injury. “Oh, it was nothing, I um tripped and fell down. It wasn’t bad and Calix was able to fix me up.”

“Turn your head I want to see.” Quentin gave in and held the mirror up to his face. Eliot tsked frowning and said, “You are always hurting yourself.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose.” Quentin muttered nervously, not wanting to see Eliot’s reaction if he knew how he really got hurt. “How’s the plant situation?”

Eliot reached over to his bedside table and then held up a little potted plant with a single green sprout growing out of the dark soil. “Tada!” he exclaimed proudly. “I know I’m a genius. Hold the applause.”

“That’s amazing El! You’re going to help so many people,” Quentin gushed. He was amazed by how fast Eliot had the plants growing and it was one less thing they had to worry about for now.

Eliot noticed Calix walking back into the room behind Quentin and called out to him. “Calix I hear your making good on your promise to keep Quentin safe.”

“He certainly doesn’t make it easy my King.” Calix said sharing a conspiratorial glance with Eliot. “That spotted hyena was a nasty piece of work, but I managed to push him off just before he made a meal out of Quentin.”

“WHAT?!” Eliot screamed glaring at Quentin.

“Oh would you look at that I gotta go! Okay bye!” Quentin quickly shut off the mirror and groaned, flopping onto his bed.

‘ _Eliot’s not going to let me out of his sight after this quest_.’ Quentin thought, but found he wasn’t all that bothered by the thought. Before he got too comfortable, he got up and took his turn in the shower watching as the layer of dirt that covered every inch of his body, washed down the drain.

After a small debate Calix and Quentin decided to try and head to Mount Fuji the next day to start their search. The map still hadn’t changed, the locator hovering over Tokyo, but Quentin had a gut feeling that they needed to get to the mountain as soon as possible.

They were able to catch a bus to the mountain and on the way there they took stock of what they were about to do. Being that it was the middle of March, all the articles and online searches warned them that the mountain was likely to be covered in snow and ice making it extremely dangerous to climb. None of the usual accommodations they had at Mount Fuji would be open so they’d be on their own if they could make it that far.

Arriving at the base of the deserted mountain, they gawked up at its impressive height. It was certainly more daunting from the bottom of it. Changing into the winter coats and pants they purchased, they were just about to begin their assent up the mountain when a branch snapped from behind. Scanning the tree line, alert and ready for danger, they were surprised when a tall humanoid figure cautiously stepped out behind a tree.

“That’s him! That’s the guy who was following us yesterday.” Calix called out, pushing Quentin behind him for protection.

The man was still wearing his leather jacket, but his pants and shoes were missing. Instead, his lower half was covered in coarse black fur and ended in hoofs. Despite the freezing temperatures, he was shirtless revealing a toned chest covered with intricate black tattoos.

“Holy shit, he’s a satyr.” Quentin proclaimed surprised observing the man from behind Calix. He was shocked to learn that satyrs were indigenous to this region.

“He can fucking hear you, you asshole.” The satyr glowered at them, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sorry! I wasn’t trying to offend you—I mean I didn’t—I wasn’t…Calix?” Quentin stuttered looking to Calix for help.

“Why are you following us?” Calix asked sternly his hand on his sword.

“I sensed your arrival, that’s some powerful magic,” he said subtly scanning the Magician’s magic level. “Clearly way above what you’re capable of.”

“Gee thanks.” Quentin sarcastically replied. “Wait you’re a satyr, shouldn’t you be after chasing women or nymphs to you know…”

“Firstly, didn’t you ever learn it’s fucking rude to make presumptions about people before you get to know them. Secondly, I’m asexual so no I won’t be chasing after any damn women or nymphs to get laid, as you humans say.” The satyr scoffed, greatly unimpressed by this human.

Calix tilted his head and gave the satyr a hard stare. “How did you blend in with the other humans?”

“It’s just one of my many talents,” he replied bowing his head, a smirk on his face.

“Alrighty then.” Quentin cleared his throat. “I’m Quentin and this is Calix.”

“You can call me Ace.”

“Ace…really?”

“No I’m fucking lying my real name is Steven,” Ace sneered. “Yes, it’s called irony dumbass. Ace is my nickname.”

 “Satyrs usually travel with others, why are you alone?” Calix had run into a few satyrs in Fillory and this one was different than those he had met before.

Rubbing the back of his head, Ace reluctantly admitted, “Yeah well they don’t like different. And as you can probably tell I’m as different from a ‘normal satyr’ as you can be according to their standards, so they kicked me out.” He said bitterly, with a scowl on his face. “What are you two idiots doing here?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we are searching for this rare Iris that only grows on the side of Mt. Fuji.” Quentin told him, frowning when he realized how insane that sounded out loud.

Ace busted out laughing, wiping a tear from his eye. “No wait you’re fucking serious? This mountain is over 12,000 feet tall with a diameter of about 30 miles. When you do the math it’s about a total surface area of like 584,000 miles! It would take you months to search the whole thing, that’s if you don’t die first.”

Calix and Quentin stared blankly at Ace. “What the fuck?”

“I like math okay,” Ace replied defensively.

“Yeah starting to understand the whole misfit thing.” Quentin muttered to himself. “Look I know it’s insane but it’s the only choice we have. Our map isn’t very helpful, and all our research points the flower being somewhere on this mountain.”

Ace arched an eyebrow and asked, “What map would this be?”

Calix grabbed it out of his bag and unfolded the parchment. Amazingly, the map had changed and was zoomed in on the mountain and pointing to a specific spot. “Damn that’s some powerful god magic.” Ace could feel the raw power pouring off of the map.

“You can tell this is from the gods?” Calix asked curiously.

“Of course, I’m a satyr. I’m one with magic, nature, and all that shit.” He said using air quotes around the words ‘one with magic.’

Quentin snorted. “Helpful.”

“Alright, I’m going with you.” Ace nodded his head once and straighten his leather jacket.

Scoffing at the idea, Quentin quickly rejected his offer. “Yeah. Thanks but no thanks. We’ve got it from here.”

“You just said I was helpful.”

“I was being sarcastic!”

Ace put his hands on his hips and glared at the stubborn idiot who was going to get himself killed. “You bitches wouldn’t last an hour on this mountain without me.”

Calix thought it over silently. “I think he might have a point my King.”

“King?”

“Quentin is one of the Kings of Fillory.”

“Fillory?” Ace questioned skeptically. “Is that even a real place?”

“Of course, it is!” Calix responded highly offended.

“Sure whatever, I believe you.” Ace clapped his hands. “Now, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Calix opened the bag once more and pulled out their hiking gear. Somehow their equipment doubled and there was more than enough for all three men to make it up the mountain.

Ace led the way as they hiked up the treacherous mountain. Quentin and Calix decided to trust him for the time being as he was their best bet to get up Mount Fuji safely. Ace followed the map carefully until it led them to a spot on the side of the mountain that jut off to nothing. “There’s nothing here. Are you sure you read the map right?” Quentin asked staring around the barren cliff side.

“Of course I’m sure! See look it should be right here.” He held out the map for them to see.

“No it’s slightly off almost like it's…” Calix said slowly before looking up. Sure enough, a singular Iris was defying gravity and growing out of the side of the mountain a good ten feet above their heads.

At first, Quentin tried to levitate Calix to get the flower. It was working for a bit but halfway there the wind picked up and nearly catapulted Calix off the side of the mountain. Quentin was swift to grab hold of his arm, and with Ace's help they were able to pull him back to safety.  

“I guess now we are even Quentin.” Calix joked, one hand pressed against his rapidly beating heart.

Ace stared helplessly up at the flower just out of reach. “No way am I doing that next.”

“You can’t get it anyway, it needs to be collected by human hands.” Quentin grumbled.

“Now what?” Calix leaned against the mountain with a gusty sigh.

“I got it!” Ace shouted out suddenly. He stuck his two pinkies in his mouth and let out a sharp whistle followed by a strange caw.

Quentin watched baffled by the strange behavior. “What are you doing?”

“I’m calling a good friend of mine. They’re an ice nature spirit who can definitely help us.” Many nature spirts were genderless beings and those that kept with modern times, preferred the they/them pronouns.

The three men watched the sky and spotted a small storm cloud coming closer and closer. “How can you be so sure they’ll be willing to help?”

“We used to date, and we stayed on good terms even after we broke up.” Ace responded confidently.

“You can date?”

“Dude, what did I say about the assumptions.” Ace smacked Quentin’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Of course, I can date you ass. I’m asexual not aromantic. If we get out of this alive you and are having a serious conversation about not stereotyping people.”

A beautiful androgynous spirt appeared out of the cloud, covered in a soft layer of frost and turned to them. “Hey Zen how are you love?” Ace walked up and placed a kiss on their cheek.

“Hello Ace. What did you do now?” They replied with a roll of their eyes.

Ace held a hand over his heart and gasped dramatically. “I would never…yeah okay I see your point. But this time it’s not me! Its these idiots.” Ace pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the two men who were watching the amusing exchange.

Zen turned their eyes upon the humans. “Hmmm…interesting.” Calix and Quentin eyed each other with concern. “What do you need of me?”

“We need that flower up there, but only humans can touch it otherwise the mystical magic won’t work.”

“Seriously? I have more important things to do than flower picking!”

“Please.” Quentin begged the ice spirit. “It’s really important, a lot of people are counting this.”

“Fine but you owe me big time Ace. I mean it this time.” They pointed sternly at Ace.

“Of course Love, put it on my tab.” Ace winked at Zen and they reluctantly smiled at his antics.

Zen sighed and waved their hand at the mountain. A thin staircase formed made of solid ice leading up to the flower. Staring at their creation satisfied, Zen nodded once and vanished in a puff of snow.

Quentin carefully climbed the staircase toward the flower. The flower was even more beautiful in person than the pictures he'd seen online. The edges of its soft petals crinkled like ribbons and spots of purple and yellow gave the flower an exotic appearance.

He plucked the flower gently from the mountain rock, careful not to damage the delicate Iris. Climbing back down just as cautiously, he placed it in another glass jar, Calix held in his hand, for safekeeping.

Once again, the second the lid snapped shut they were transported to the next item; already halfway done with this ridiculous quest. However, this time it wasn’t just two people who were transported by the map. It was three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a crazy amount of research on these locations but things still might be a bit inaccurate, just go with it! Also i know the Iris japonica isn't really a rare species but again for the purposes of this story just go with it. It's a really pretty flower though you should look it up, if you want. One last thing but runespoors are a creation from the world of Harry Potter.
> 
> Another chapter down and things are heating up woop woop. Hope you all enjoy. :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voila! Here is the next chapter sooner than even I had anticipated. I caught the writing bug and hopefully the next chapter will be out on Friday! Until then hope you enjoy this one. :D
> 
> Edited: 10/5/2019

_‘Third time’s the charm’_ , Quentin thought when he and Calix were able to steady themselves and remain upright after they arrived at their newest death trap…um that is to say location.

Ace however was not so lucky. He landed awkwardly on his hooves and twisted his ankle so much so that he felt something pop. “OW Fuck!” He screamed clutching his ankle that was throbbing with pain. “What the fuck Quentin?? I didn’t want to go with you! Where the fuck are we?!"

They were standing in front of a massive chain linked fence topped with barbed wire. The building the fence was barricading, appeared to be an old factory that had been long abandoned. Birds flew in and out of the roof that was partially caved in and weeds and vines climbed up the brick façade.

Quentin leaned over Ace and cast a quick healing spell for his sprained ankle, but it still needed to be wrapped to prevent further injury. He took off his shirt and ripped it into long strips which he used to carefully wrapped around the injured ankle. “OW!!” Ace shouted, glaring at Quentin.

“Oh relax, you’ll be fine.” Quentin tied off the makeshift wrap with a tight knot and sat back on his heels satisfied with his impromptu first aid efforts. Calix tossed him an extra shirt, which Quentin quickly threw on before offered the satyr a hand up. Ace of course ignored his gesture. He gingerly stood up on his own testing his weight on the sore ankle then limped over to the fence.

After changing out of the rest of their heavy winter gear, Calix pulled out the map and studied it to learn about this next leg of the quest. “It looks like we are in Kentucky and searching for a few scales from a rainbow fish.” It bemused Calix to realize that after the last few weeks, a statement like that felt completely normal.

As the locator on the map was hovering over the area, they wandered around the perimeter of the factory looking for some body of water where fish could be.

“We’ve walked around this dump three times now, there is nothing here,” Ace said already fed up with this whole quest bullshit. “Since we’re clearly not going to solve this one anytime soon, I think I’ve earned the right to know why you are behaving like little errand boys for some douchebag god.”

Quentin ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “It’s complicated…”

“I’ve got nowhere else to be apparently.” Ace leaned against the fence, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“Alright fine. We—”

“HEY!” A voice called out to them. They all turned and saw a cop marching up to them. “What are you kids doing hanging around here. It’s private property and you boys are trespassing.” He told them sternly, sliding his sunglasses to the to the top of his head.

“Sorry—we were, we were just um hiking, and we got lost.” Quentin stuttered out the obvious lie.

The police officer gave Quentin a skeptical look. “Right,” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to do a perimeter check of this place and if you are still here when I get back, you will all be spending the night in a jail cell. Understand?” They were quick to agree and after one final warning look, the officer strolled off.

They followed the dirt road away from the factory and headed into town, which was only a half a mile away. The small city was only a few miles long and every store was located on the main street that ran through the middle of it. Ace pointed out a nice-looking diner, and they decided to step inside to grab a bite to eat while they tried to figure out what to do next.

After getting their food, again paid for with Bacchus’ credit card, Calix and Quentin took turns explaining the strange quest the god had sent them on.

“Okay let me see if I got this right,” Ace took a bite of his veggie burger, chewing while he thought the new information over in his head. “The god Ember shit into the wellspring,”

Quentin nodded tiredly, stabbing his fries with his fork. “Yup.”

“The Wellspring is the source of magic for the entire fucking world?”

“Yeah pretty much.” Quentin repeated leaning back into the booth.

Ace’s eyes darted between Calix and Quentin incredulously. “And because of the shit, magic is on the fritz and might not recover unless you fix it.”

“Correct,” Calix chimed in, cutting his pork chop into smaller pieces.

Ace burst out laughing loudly, drawing attention from the other patrons. “Boy are you screwed.”

“Anyway,” Quentin shushed Ace not wanting anyone to overhear their conversation. “We kinda figured that since a god created it maybe a god has to fix it, and that’s where Bacchus comes in.”

“Alright fine but I don’t see how fish scales and flowers…”

“And Runespoor venom,” Calix reminded him.

“—right and venom, will help you fix the Wellspring.” Ace wiped his hands on his napkin and took a sip of his water.

Quentin shrugged his shoulders and admitted, “I really don’t know, but it’s our only option right now so we’re going with it.”

“Right then. How are we going to find a rainbow fish on a waterless plot of land?”

“Hey ya’ll, how is everything?” The waitress came over to them filling up their water glasses.

“It’s great thank you,” Calix said sending her a warm smile which had her melting. “Actually, can you tell us about that factory at the end of town?”

“The old bourbon distillery? I’m afraid I don’t know much, I only just moved here a year ago, but um oh yes HEY Lewis come here!” She looked around the diner and called to someone sitting up at the barstools. “Lewis use to work at the distillery.”

“What’s up Carol?” An older gentleman wearing a fishing hat walked over to them sitting at the table across from theirs.

“These lovely gentleman would like to know about the ol’ bourbon place.”

“I worked at Callahan’s Bourbon Distillery for nearly fifteen years. It was a great place to work and good people too,” Lewis recounted with a sad smile on his face. “They had to close it down due to there being so many technical issues when things kept breaking, and several people reported that there were things ‘ _flying out of nowhere’_ at them. If you ask me, it was all just a big hullaballoo of other workers sneaking drinks on the job.

“When they closed it put a lot of people out of work, many left our little town of Willow’s Creek.” Lewis rubbed his knee with one hand, staring out the window where you could just about see the top of the distillery.

Carol stuck her pencil in her ponytail. “Didn’t they put up that new fence recently Lew?” She started wiping down several dirty tables while still listening to their conversation.

“Yeah, and they have a cop patrolling the area every hour since kids kept breaking into the place thinking they’d be some bourbon left. The little idiots. Hey Mac! Didn’t one of your kids break into ol’ Callahan’s factory?” Lewis shouted to someone in the kitchen.

A man popped his head through the window to the kitchen, waving a spatula round in his hand. “Yup the little bugger came back screamin’ about ghosts and ghouls. Posted his _exploration_ on the YouTube and now we get folks come here every few months chasin’ after spirits. Good for business though, I’ll admit.” He snickered then went back to work.

“What do you think they saw?” Calix asked Lewis curiously. He was sure that this distillery held the key to somehow finding their next item.

“It was probably some kind of animal causing a ruckus up in the old plant but what do I know.” Lewis looked down at his watch and cursed, reading the time. “Ah damn, I better get going. Nice chattin’ to you folks.”

As he walked back to his seat and Carol came over to hand them the bill. “Whenever you’re ready, there is no rush,” She told them with a smile.

“Maybe something in that place will give us a clue?” Quentin suggested weakly.

“How would we get in?” Calix questioned dubiously. “You heard them they upped the security on the factory.”

Ace scoffed harshly and took one last bite of his food. “Please, haven’t you ever broken into places you shouldn’t be?”

“Of course, back when I was a kid but now…” Calix trailed off. Even if his son wasn't there, he still wanted to set a good example for him.

“Well come on then Grandpa Cal. We’ll wait until night and have an little look around.” Ace stood up grabbing the check and bringing it to the front to pay with the credit card.

Calix turned to Quentin hoping he would be on his side, but Quentin agreed with Ace. “Fine but if we end up in jail, I’m blaming Ace.”

They waited until an hour after the sun set before sneaking back to the distillery. Walking down the dirt road, they used a few flashlights they bought at the general store to light their way. Halfway there, Ace pushed Calix and Quentin behind the trees to avoid being seen by a cop car that drove past after the routine hourly check.

After finally arriving at the distillery, they circled the fence trying to find a weak spot to bypass the barrier. Quentin managed to find a tree with low branches hanging over the fence. They scaled the tree and jumped over the barbed wire, landing safely on the other side. Entering the factory through a broken window, they split up to cover more ground.

Inside was a wreckage of what use to be a thriving plant. There were old machines rusted over and covered in dust and spider webs. Broken glass bottles littered the floor, sending shimmers of light when the flashlights passed over them. Empty barrels lined the walls, the wooden material starting to decay. Quentin peered inside one and jumped when a squirrel popped out surprising him before it scrambled away.

Calix ambled over to Quentin after he finished searching the right side of the distillery. “There is nothing here, should we search further?” He asked, shining his flashlight around the dusty space.

A glass bottle flew through the darkness and shattered against the wall behind their heads, sending a shower of glass over them. “Shit,” Quentin swore, covering his head for protection. Ace ran over upon hearing the shattering glass, joining the two in frantically searching for the perpetrator.

“Who’s there?” Calix armed himself with his trusty sword. “Show yourself,” he commanded.

“As you wish.” A low raspy voice responded, sending chills down their spines.

An older woman with dark brown skin, the color of rich chocolate, stepped out of the gloom. Golden eyes glowed menacingly in the dark, as she glared at the intruders. Her hair was vibrantly green and resembled the branches of weeping willow trees falling to the tops of her thighs. A blue robe adorned her body, which swayed in the wind that gusted past them.

“Why have you come here? Do you wish to vandalize my home even more?” The mysterious woman screamed, inching closer ready to attack.

“Your home?” Ace stared at the woman surprised when he recognized what she was. “You’re a dryad. Why are you protecting this factory, it’s not a tree?”

She screamed enraged and threw a barrel at them, which they managed to dodge just in time. “Don’t you think I know that!! You humans came and DESTROYED my trees. I watched helplessly as you cut them to pieces and used the remains to build this stupid factory.”

As she reached a clawed arm out toward them, vines broke through the floorboards wrapping tightly around their bodies capturing them in place. Calix managed to cut himself free with his sword but with another wave of her hand, she sent him flying against the wall where he fell unconscious.

“Calix!” Quentin cried, fighting as the vines constricted around him and Ace.

“As if that wasn’t enough, this damn factory dumped its waste into the creek that ran through here, polluting it beyond repair. Hundreds of creatures and plants that lived off that creek are now dead,” The dryad continued her angry tirade. Years of suppressed anger pouring off of her.

Quentin tried to break free of the strong vines but was unsuccessful. “I’m sorry! It was awful the way humans treated your land.”

“Sorry?! Do you have any idea how much pain I was in. I felt everything,” She bellowed, her voice raw and powerful while angry tears welling up in her eyes. “Every blow to the beautiful bark with those machines, every branch the snapped in half, all of it I felt. The more polluted the waters got the harder it was to breathe, and I slowly suffocated until the creek all but dried up to nothing.”

“Lady look. I understand how you feel.” Ace called out, wrestling a vine away from his neck. “My forest back in Japan was constantly being fucking trashed by humans who encroached more and more into my territory. But these two aren’t like the others. There's something different about them.” Ace felt his face blush slightly when Quentin turned to stare at him.

“Oh please, he’s a human just like the rest of them. Why shouldn’t I just kill him now? It’d be so easy to do.” A vine sprung up and wrapped around Quentin’s throat, slowly cutting off his airway.

“Stop!! He may be human but his is such a wuss he wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” Ace pleaded with the dryad, watching as Quentin’s face slowly turned blue. “Please, if you don’t trust him fine, but at least trust me.”

Golden eyes peered into Ace’s onyx ones, and the dryad gave a sharp nod slashing her hand through the air. The vines retreated, releasing their tight hold and Quentin quickly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. “Thank you,” He gasped out.

Running to check on Calix, Quentin was relieved to find that he was fine except for a nasty bump on his head. Calix groaned and sat up groggily as Quentin woke him up. “Quentin! Get back!” He shouted as he spotted the woman standing nearby.

“Oh, relax human. You are all safe, for now,” She warned them.

Calix stood up slowly, stretching out his sore muscles. “I’m assuming you are the ‘ _ghost_ ’ that haunts the factory then.”

She laughed softly smirking, “It was quite easy to scare away the little humans, a little wind blowing things around sent them running off like little mice. I’m Willow by the way.”

“I’m Calix, and this is Quentin and Ace. I apologize for disturbing you.”

“Why are you here then? Especially you satyr so far from home.”

“Believe me lady it wasn’t my choice.” Ace pointed a thumb at the two humans. “These two got themselves involved in a godly quest to save magic,” he mocked.

“Oh,” She turned to Quentin. “What is wrong with magic?”

They quickly explained to Willow the situation and how Bacchus sent them on a wild hunt for random items, including their current search for the rainbow fish.

“What are you going to do with the fish?” She asked angrily, the wind picking up around them as she glanced at them suspiciously.

Quentin held his hands up trying to calm her down before things escalated beyond control. “Nothing! We just need to collect a few of its scales, I know of a spell that would pluck a few of them harmlessly without hurting it.”

“Why do you know a spell like that?” Ace turned to Quentin amused, one eyebrow raised.

“It’s a variation of an cosmetic spell for facial grooming…my friend Margo showed it me.”

Willow rolled her eye at their banter and said, “Come with me.”

She led them down to the basement where rows and rows of barrels lay empty. Slipping through a crack in the wall that was just big enough for them to squeeze through, they followed her deeper into the distillery. Going down a slight incline with a hand on the wall to guide their way through the gloom, they wandered into an underground cave where a small pool of water resided.

“This is all that’s left of my creek,” she said sadly running a hand over the singular fish that swam in its depths. The fish swam to her excitedly and splashed around. “You promise it won’t hurt him?”

“I promise, I’ve done the spell on myself it’s painless. I’ll even heal his missing scales after.” Quentin promised kneeling next to the small pool.

“Okay,” She leaned over and whispered something to the fish. He then swam into Quentin’s waiting hands holding still. “He’s ready.”

Quentin gently collected a few of his scales and placed them into the glass jar, hesitating before closing the lid. “Listen, the second this lid touches the glass everyone in the vicinity will be transported to who knows where. You should probably leave now,” he warned Willow.

She glanced around the small cave, a heartbroken expression on her face and she came face to face with her harsh reality. “There is nothing left here for me now. I want to go with you.” Holding a hand above the water, a small bubble of water floated out carefully holding the fish. Willow waved the bubble into her open arms and cuddled it close to her, petting the fish through the water. 

“If you’re sure then.” When she gave a firm nod, he placed the jar’s lid on tightly and in a flash of magic they were transported away to their last item.

* * *

Quentin landed face first in a bank of snow and the rest followed in a similar fashion. It was brutally and bitterly cold, and more snow fell heavily upon them making it impossible to see more than five feet away. A layer of ice already begun forming around the rainbow fish’s water bubble in the artic climate. 

Calix spotted an igloo to their right and grabbed Quentin’s arm pointing in the right direction. He was shivering so hard he could barely speak. Quentin nodded and grabbed Ace’s arm who then grabbed Willow, completing their chain to prevent anyone from getting lost. They trudged through the heavy snow; each moment become more dire as they headed toward safety as fast as possible.

Crawling into the igloo, they brushed off the snow and huddled together as they attempted to keep warm. “Jesus, just once I’d like to be transported to a fucking tropical island like Bermuda or Hawaii? Is that so much to ask for?!” Quentin said through chattering teeth, violently shivering.

Calix bent down and lit a fire in the center of the igloo from the logs that were already stacked neatly in the corner. “What are you doing?!” Willow cried out. “Are you trying to melt our only shelter?!”

“It’s fine Willow. I used to make igloos like this when I was a kid in Fillory. If you place the fire in the center and if the temperature is stable, nothing will melt,” Calix clarified, holding his hands over the fire to allow the warmth to heat his icy hands.

Willow appeared skeptical, but nevertheless took a step closer to the fire definitely not use to the freezing cold. “What if someone comes back and demands their igloo back?”

“Have you seen the storm outside,” Ace remarked, moaning softly as the heat warmed his wet fur. “No one will be able to even see this place in all that snow.”

Quentin asked Calix for the magical bag and took a look inside, this time he found several blankets and sleeping bags. Together they spread them onto the floor of the igloo making it more comfortable. The last few things in the bag were a few boxes of pasta, cans of tomato sauce, and a big pot. “I guess we know what we’ll be eating.”

While Calix volunteered to get started on dinner, Quentin studied the map with Ace and Willow peeking over his shoulder. They were in the Thule region of Greenland and they needed to get a jar of ice. Yes, that’s right, the final item on their list was to fill the last glass jar with fucking ice. Why Bacchus couldn’t use simple ice from the store, gods only know.

Quentin peered out of the igloo and watched the blizzard woefully. It’d be a day at least until the storm cleared and they could venture out again. They were all drowsy from their long day and decided to head to bed early, each person claiming a section of the igloo for themselves.

Before Quentin could drift off to sleep, he heard Willow shivering violently to his left. Her fish bubble hovered nearby as close to the fire as it could get without evaporating totally. He got up and covered her with his extra blanket before going back to his section. Curling into a tight ball he was soon fast asleep.

Willow’s eyes peered at him in the darkness, studying the peculiar human. She was still wary of the two men but perhaps Ace was right, and they were different, but only time would tell. Blinking sleepily, she rolled over and fell asleep much more comfortable with the extra warmth the blanket provided.

A silent igloo was what Quentin woke up to early the next day as everyone else was still asleep. He did a quick time check and realized it was already 10 o’clock in the morning. Setting a quick privacy ward around himself, he decided to use the mirror to update those in Fillory.

“Hey sleepy head.” Quentin said after he was once again met with the sight of the sleepy King.

“Quentin!” Eliot exclaimed always happy to see the younger magician. “I tried calling last night and no one picked up.”

“Yeah we had a bit of a long night,” Quentin sighed. “I’ll tell you about it when I get back.”

“I’m holding you too that, and don’t think I’ve forgotten about the hyena story you are going to tell me about too.” Eliot gave Quentin a stern look and Quentin bit his lip sheepishly, having forgotten about that part of the quest.

“So why did you try to call me last night?” Quentin yawned, still exhausted from all the excitement the night before. “Did something happen?”

“Oh, no everything’s fine. I just wanted to tell you about the amazing orgy I had.” Eliot gave Quentin a lavish wink through the mirror.

Quentin crinkled his nose as he laughed amused. “Geez El haha. Do I want to know how many people you slept with?”

“I’ll spare you the details…for now, but you should have seen the guard’s faces when they all left my room the next morning.” The two men shared in their jollity falling back into the familiar pattern of playful banter. Eliot sighed and leaned back against his pillows. “I miss you Q.”

“I miss you too, we have one last item to get and I’ll be back soon.” Quentin was filled with an acute sense of homesickness. He did the mental math and realized they had been gone for about two weeks. “Oh! We picked up two people who are helping us with the quest.”

“Will they be coming back to Fillory with you and Calix?”

“Oh huh. I hadn’t thought of it. I’m not sure.”

“As High King of Fillory I grant them permission to visit our great nation if they so desire.” Eliot said pompously in a dramatic tone, knowing it would get Quentin to laugh.

“Haha thank you my benevolent King.” Quentin chuckled. A movement caught his eye and he noticed that the others had started stirring. “I should go. I’ll see you soon hopefully.”

Eliot smiled sadly but clung onto the hope that Quentin would be back soon. “Bye Q. Come back to me in one piece, ya hear me Coldwater.”

“Loud and clear. Bye El.” Quentin waved goodbye and deactivated the mirror.

After everyone was fully awake, Calix and Quentin volunteered to head outside and gather some snow to boil for the pasta and for drinking water. The magical bag had thick heavy winter clothing for them to were that was insulated to keep in their body heat. The storm hadn’t let up at all and they knew they would be stuck there for another day.

Back and igloo, Willow stayed close to the fire for warmth. She turned to Ace and asked politely, “You looked confused when you first saw me.”

“Well yeah, all the dryads I’ve seen were much younger. No offense,” he quickly added. He did not want to see the woman angry again.

“I’ve lived a long, long time, young satyr, I am not ashamed of my age or appearance.”

“How are you able to live without your trees?”

“When the humans came and destroyed my home, I was able to collect three willow tree saplings I keep with me at all times.” She showed him the tiny trees growing in a bag hidden beneath her robe. “I managed to tie my life force to them before I died. I had to put them in stasis to keep them safe until they can be planted and flourish properly.”

They sat in a comfortable silence waiting for the two humans to return. “Something is changing…can you feel it?” Willow carefully broached the subject. As creatures of nature, they were usually the first to sense when something changed in the natural order.

Ace nodded, wrapping the blanket around himself tighter. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure but the longer I spend with Quentin and his sidekick the more I feel it.”

“Do you think he could be…?” Willow hedged, turning to Ace with a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

“I didn’t when I first met them, but now…” Ace shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure.”

Calix and Quentin crawl back into the igloo carrying the magically enlarged pot they used to put the snow into. Placing the pot onto the fire, they began the process to heat up and purify the water to use for lunch.

Willow patted the spot next to her for Quentin to sit. “Quentin, thank you for the blanket last night. 

“Oh no worries, it wasn’t a big deal.” He grabbed an extra blanket and covered his legs.  “You needed it more than I did.”

Reaching out for his hand, she flipped it over and lightly traced the lines reading his palm. “There is a deep sadness in you.” She said and he flinched back feeling exposed. “I have been on this planet for many moons and believe me when I say hope springs eternal. It may be cliché but things will get better, not easier and the pain may linger long after you want it to, but it will be better.”

She let go of his hand and looked away politely allowing the young man to wipe away the tears that fell down his face. Turning toward Calix she said, “Now tell me more about this Fillory of yours.”

Over lunch, Calix proudly told them about his country and begun to brainstorm way to get Fillory back on its feet once they had magic back. The rest of the day was passed in a similar fashion, giving them time to get to know each other better.

Finally, the next morning arrived and the storm had stopped. Covering themselves in as many layers as possible they prepared themselves to head out into the frigid atmosphere. Quentin even made Willow, a waterproof heated bag so she could carry her rainbow fish, dubbed Pisces by Ace. The air was clear, and they were able to see that they were on the edge of a frozen lake.

They struggled to march across the snowy tundra, but they pushed through determined to reach the lake. Once there, Quentin grabbed hold of Calix’s sword and tried to plunge it into the ice. Unfortunately, the ice was too hard, and all of his efforts were thwarted by the thick layer. Frustrated, he started rapidly beating the ice with the sword out of anger sending chips of ice flying around them.

“Quentin! Stop!” Ace tried to reason with the stubborn man.

“No! This is the last item! We are so close to fixing the wellspring you don’t understand!” Quentin cried desperately, needing this to work out right.

“It’s too cold man. Why don’t we walk around a bit and try to find a thinner patch?”

“That could take hours. It’s -9°F, there won’t be any thinner patches anyway.” Quentin huffed in frustration, a cloud of white leaving his mouth. “Wait, I have an idea.”

He heated up the blade of the sword until it was burning white and touched the ice with the tip. It sunk a few centimeters into the ice and he patiently repeated the process until he carved several cubes of ice out of the lake. He placed them carefully into the final glass jar, hoping they wouldn’t melt.

They realized with a start that they were done with their mission and their cheers filled the air. He placed the lid on, and as the map magic washed over them, he could barely believe they finished the quest.

“Holy shit! I didn’t think you would actually survive!” Bacchus’s voice called to them, as they landed in another apartment, this time there was no party raging on in the background. “And you brought back friends and a snack?” Bacchus eyes the bag on Willow’s back holding Pisces. Willow glared at the arrogant god and moved to stand behind Ace.  

“Here are the things you requested. You also might want to look up the word simple in the dictionary.” Quentin handed him the glass jars one by one, glaring at the god.

Bacchus tipped each ingredient into a large brass cauldron and carefully mixed it together over a low flame. At the last second, they watched confused as he added alcohol to the bubbling mixture. Bacchus ladled some of the liquid out and poured it into a glass. He then studied it critically, holding it up to the light, before nodding satisfied.

Bacchus lifted the glass to his lips and took a mighty gulp. “Dammnn that is so fucking good! Iris was right, the bitch, now I owe her one.”

Their jaws dropped in disbelief and Quentin, in particular, looked crushed. It was Ace who surprisingly came to his defense, saying exactly what was on everybody’s mind. “Are you shitting me right now? This guy has been busting is fucking ass out there, and you used him to make a fucking drink for yourself?? You’re such a dick and if you weren’t an immortal god, I would so beat your ass.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t help you fix the wellspring.” Bacchus told them, his face shadowed with regret.

“Why didn’t you say that when we first started?!?!” Calix said furious that they wasted their time for nothing.

“It doesn’t matter,” Quentin said morosely. “I should have known this was too good to be true. Let’s just go please.” He turned to walk out, wrapping an arm around himself for comfort.

“Wait!” Bacchus rushed over until he was in front of them halting their attempt to leave. “I’m not strong enough to fix the wellspring, I’m sorry. I know it was a dick thing to do but I needed you to prove yourself to me so I could give you this.” He held out a small vial filled with a green liquid. “This will heal anyone even on the brink of death. However, there is only enough for _one_ person, so you better not waste it.”

Bacchus tilted his head, appearing to be listening to something they couldn’t hear. “I’ve already messed with fate to much, they won’t be pleased,” he muttered to himself under his breath.

“Who won’t be pleased?” Willow probed, trying to extrapolate more information from the strange god.

“Quentin,” Bacchus turned to him, serious for once. “Don’t blow it kid.” Before he could respond, they were shoved out of the apartment by the same magic as the map and landed on the front lawn of the cottage back at Brakebills.

“I’m sorry for dragging you guys along with us on this stupid quest.” Quentin stared up at the sky, laying in the grass.

“Eh don’t beat yourself up about it. It was the most fun I’ve had in ages.” Ace remarked sitting up, ignoring the passing students who gawked at them.

“I too asked to come along, I do not regret a thing.” Willow tentatively reached out and patted Quentin’s hand.

“Where are you guys going to go now?”

Ace and Willow looked at each other, before coming to the same conclusion. “We weren’t lying when we said there was nothing left for us here Quentin. We were hoping you’d allow us to come back to Fillory with you?” Willow asked unsure if their continued presence would be tolerated.

“Oh. Of course you can! We have amazing gardens and we can go and plant some willow trees for you Willow, to make you feel more at home. And Ace…” Quentin trailed off, not sure what an asexual satyr would enjoy doing. “Well I’m sure we have some issues that need a math genius on site for…right Calix?”

“Fillory would be honored to host such a distinguished guest…and Ace.” Calix joked laughing.

“Eliot…the high King, already gave me permission to invite you guys along with us!” During their time on the quest, Quentin had come to see everyone as close friends and hoped they would remain so in Fillory.

Willow smiled warmly at the young man she couldn’t help but like. Even Ace had to admit, albeit begrudgingly, to himself that he too liked Quentin.

“Alright well then let’s go!” Quentin dug the button to Fillory out of his bag and held it out for them all to touch. “Don’t worry it’s a lot better than that map transportation.”

During the quick walk to the castle Quentin told them more about Eliot, Margo, and the rest of the S.A.F.E. members. Turning to the space where the castle should be, they stopped short when they only saw an empty crater instead. Spotting Benedict and Penny by the side of the crater Quentin ran over to them. “Guys what the hell!? Where is the fucking castle!!?”

“We don’t know we were outside when the whole thing just fucking vanished.” Penny told him, eyeing the people trailing after him and what appeared to be a fish in a bubble of water.

They tried walking toward the crater but were blasted back by some kind of ward. Quentin tried to call Margo and Eliot with his mirror, but there was no response.

“Do castles here often go um…missing?” Ace asked quietly in the background.

Penny snorted and sat down onto the soft grass. “Apparently…welcome to fucking Fillory.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is a brief scene of sexual harassment and threats of sexual assault that could be triggering for some people!
> 
> Here is the latest chapter in this epic tale, hope you all enjoy! :D
> 
> Edited: 10/6/2019

_The previous day._

“Come back to me in one piece, ya hear me Coldwater.” Eliot said, an ache in his chest he couldn't explain as he watched Quentin's image disappear. He kept looking into the mirror, even after it was deactivated, only seeing his reflection staring back at him.

A part of him was insanely jealous that Quentin got to go off on a wild adventure while he and Margo were stuck in Fillory. On the other hand, a larger part of him knew that this quest would be good for Quentin to escape the place where Alice died, just as long as he returned afterward. Eliot sighed and tossed the mirror to the side.

Margo strolled into his room, munching on a muffin, and saw the mirror on his bed. “Did Quentin just call?”

Eliot waved her over and she settled onto the bed next to him. “Yeah you just missed him.”

“Where is he now?” She asked curiously.

“He didn’t say but he was buried under a mountain of blankets so it could be Antarctica for all we fucking know,” He said bitterly. Knowing that Quentin was out there doing god knows what and risking his life was killing him. “But they are searching for the last item so hopefully he’ll be back soon.”

“What a world traveler our little Q has become, Africa and Japan and those are only the places we know about.” Margo rested her head onto Eliot’s shoulder. “El, what if he doesn’t want to come back?”

“He will.” Those thoughts had crept into Eliot’s mind more often than he’d cared to admit. No matter, when Quentin returned, he’d just have to show him all the things he wouldn’t be able to find anywhere else in the world.

A knock on the door distracted him momentarily and Tick walked in. “Finally, I’ve been searching the entire castle for you two. Hurry you must come to the throne room immediately. It’s urgent!” Leaving the door wide open Tick rushed out just as fast as he arrived. Margo quickly followed Tick, but Eliot took a bit longer, needing to get dressed. Tossing his crown on his head, he looked into the mirror once more satisfied by his appearance and left his room heading toward the throne room.

Eliot sat down in his throne and glanced at the crowd of people, including the S.A.F.E members, scrambling around. “What’s going on?”

“Just another day in the office.” Margo smirked, sitting regally in her seat.

Horns blared as a group of strange men sauntered in, all dressed in heavy furs and armed with swords and spears. “Your majesties, the much-venerated Emissaries of our neighbors to the north. I present Prince Ess of Loria.” Tick announced before stepping back.

“I’m sorry _Princess_?” Eliot questioned the man leading the pack.

“Please, just call me Ess,” The prince said, bowing slightly.

Eliot bit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Oh, Prince Ess, oh my god fuck your parents, dude.” From the corner of his eye, Eliot could also see Margo fighting back peals of laughter.

“We’ve got a problem. You guys have been fucking shit up for over half a century.” Ess accused glaring at the King and Queen, then he continued arrogantly. “You jokers let Ember take a dump into the Wellspring. Loria depends on the Wellspring’s tributaries and now their magic’s jacked and it’s not enough. Crops, rivers, entire species are affected.”

“Yeah we know we have the same issues here,” Margo remarked, crossing her arms over her chest. “What makes you think you’re so special?”

“You dicked us over.” Ess continued, ignoring Margo’s comments.

“No, we’re trying to fix it, so…”

“Great than this should be easy,” Ess replied cockily. He glanced around at his fellow Lorians and they all had the same arrogant smirk on their faces. “I’m here to propose a treaty between our two kingdoms. A 50/50 split of the Wellspring and to seal the deal I, Crown Prince of Loria, offer my hand in marriage to the virgin Queen Margo.”

Several people around the room gasped and Eliot snickered loudly, unable to contain his mirth. “Um…Okay.”

“Did he just call me a virgin?” Margo had never been accused of being a virgin before, a slut and a whore sure but a virgin, no.

“Bambi, please, let me.” Eliot stood up gracefully and took a step forward. “Ess, thank you. We will consider your generous offer—”

“No we will not!” Margo jumped to her feet, unable to sit back and watch as her future was handed over on a silver platter. “Listen _Princess_ , I’m not a sharer so why don’t you walk yourself and your unironic furs out of my castle.”

Ess smirked and his people held up their weapons in anticipation. “Alright them Plan B. Illario!” A tall weedy looking man stepped forward holding a wand in his hand and cast an intricate pattern into the air.

The entire castle begun shaking violently, dust falling from the ceiling, and everyone in the room grabbed onto the nearest surface to steady themselves. Scared cries came from all around the room as the crowd of people gathered in the hall cowered in fear.

When the castle stopped shaking the Prince announced, “Your Majesties, Welcome to Loria.” Eliot and Margo rushed to the window and saw giant peaks of sharp rock standing erect in the barren land.

“Guards!” Margo called out furious. The guards instantly stormed toward to the Lorians, weapons at the ready. Before they could attempt to subdue the enemy, Prince Ess grabbed a palace worker and pulled her to his chest, holding a knife to her throat.  

“So many hostages. I wouldn’t try anything if I were you…” He leaned down and pressed his nose into her strawberry blonde hair, breathing deeply. “Mmm so pretty, I think I’ll keep you as a concubine.” He pressed the knife deeper into her throat and a bead of blood dripped down her neck.

Margo hastily waved off the guards, and they reluctantly dropped their weapons. Ess gave a command in a different language and his guards herded everyone into one group and escorted them through the castle to the dungeons.

“I’ll just leave you guys here to…think things over.” Ess winked at Margo, and she sneered in return. He strolled off, dragging the helpless girl along with him. She turned and stared at them with tear filled eyes, whimpering when Ess dragged her out of the room.

“Shit, Shit, Shit.” Margo turned to Eliot panicked. There was no way all of the stress was good for a person’s health and her stress levels had passed critical several weeks ago.

Eliot rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Okay okay okay. Our castle was just fucking kidnapped, we need to think.” What he needed was for this whole thing to be a dream, one that he’d wake up from and everything would be back to normal.

“We are not giving into the demands of a bunch of barbarian frat bros.” Margo placed her hands on her hips, glaring at Eliot.

“Fine, but when we were dealing with them you could have been more diplomatic.”

Margo scoffed and scowled up at Eliot. “Why don’t you marry him if you’re so gun hoe on fucking us over?”

“He doesn’t want to marry me, he wants you,” Eliot unhelpfully reminded Margo.

Margo shrieked outraged. “And there is no way in hell he’ll ever get me!”

“You’re a Queen now Margo,” Eliot told her gently. “We have to make certain sacrifices for our kingdom.”

“I refuse to marry that creep!” Margo couldn’t believe Eliot was considering the proposal. “He seemed arrogant and entitled, and unclear on the concept of consent. I can’t imagine what could possibly go wrong.” Eliot looked into her wide eyes and could see that behind her bravo, she was genuinely terrified of what would happen to her if she gave into his demands.

“We have to do something.” Eliot sighed and stared out the window, aghast at the unfamiliar scenery.

Margo exhaled sharply and pressed her lips together in a tight line. “Fine I’ll talk to him, but only to talk us out of this epic clusterfuck…and I’m staying a virgin.”

She stormed off and strode around the eerily empty halls of the castle, searching for the intruders.  Margo found the Prince and his entourage trashing one of the guest rooms. The poor girl Ess used for leverage, was being cornered against the wall with her hands tied behind her back by some of the Lorian guards. Ess sat back in a chair with his dirty shoes propped up on the bed watching amused.

“HEY!” Margo shouted, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She cast a spell that released the girl from her bonds, and she took the opportunity to run off sending Margo a grateful look. The guards tried to follow after but Ess signaled for them to hold back.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Ess asked, folding his hands behind his head leering at the irate woman.

Margo swiped her tongue across her teeth and fought the urge to scream. “If we forgo the wedding, I’m willing to grant you periodic access to the Wellspring,” she suggested diplomatically.

“It’s cute you think this is a negotiation.” Ess stood up and stalked toward her. He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek. “You’re even cuter when you’re angry.” Margo smacked his hand away and took a step back, glaring heatedly.

Ess signaled for his guards to leave the room. “No wedding, no treaty, no castle.”

“I’m not marrying someone I just met.”

“I can give you a good life in Loria.” He reached for her again, but she avoided his touch sending him a warning look. “I’m surprisingly progressive for a Lorian. We get married and I’d still let you speak in public. I’d still let you—”

Before he could continue spreading his bullshit, Margo interjected. “Jesus, do you hear yourself? You’d _let_ me? I’m a goddamn Queen not some animal to control. No one is in charge of me but myself.”

“You think I want to marry a virgin?” Ess yelled, dropping his cocky attitude. “This is purely political.”

“Oh my god! For fucks sakes I’m not a virgin!” Even if she was, Margo would have rather lost her virginity to a cactus then ever letting him anywhere near her body.

Ess arched his eyebrow and gave her a look over. “Look I’ve had the best in Loria and Lorians are the best so either way, you’re a virgin to me sweetheart.”

“Let’s get some things straight.” Margo was done with this ridiculous conversation. “One. I’m not your sweetheart kay? Two. I’m certain I can bang circles around your Lorian hoes and three I’m a very smart, very liberated woman and when I set my mind to something I master it.”

“And you’ve master what? Never touching a man?” Ess took a step closer to her, and Margo forced herself not to move away.

“Not touching a man…touching…” She cupped the front of his pants, biting back a wave of disgust as she felt him hardening. “I’m good at both.”

“Oh, you want me to stop?” She whispered seductively throwing on her best game face. Margo knew she had him hooked when he shook his head hypnotized by her sexual appeal. “Say it or I’ll stop.”

“Don’t stop,” he pleaded.

Margo leaned close and whispered into his ear. “One last thing…We don’t always get what we want.” With one final look she tried to turn and walk away but he stopped her gripping her arm tightly, hard enough to bruise. It hurt but she refused to let him have the satisfaction of seeing her in pain.

“You’re clearly too emotional right now so I’ll be generous and let you think about your answer for a little bit longer but let _me_ make one thing clear to _you_ ,” he told her condescendingly. “Either way you’ll be mine, your little stunt just showed me how good we’d be together. It’s up to you if you want it to be willingly or after I’ve killed all your little friends and burned this kingdom to the ground.” Gone was the arrogant but ridiculous Prince. In his place was a seriously dangerous man with psychopathic tendencies. Every one of Margo's survival instincts were on red alert.

Margo pulled her arm out of his tight grip and all but ran out of the room. She went to her bedchamber, locking the door behind her, and placing a chair for extra protection. There were strong wards placed on the door to prevent unwanted guests from entering, but their magician had some serious powers and she wasn’t willing to chance it.

She was a strong woman and wasn’t easily scared, but she didn’t doubt he meant what he said and that terrified her. Looking into his cold eyes, she could see the true monster lurking just beneath the surface. Margo could feel herself shaking and took deep breaths with her head between her knees to keep from breaking down completely. She stayed in her room the entire day, trying in vain to think of a way out of this mess. Nearly ripping her hair out in desperation, she threw herself onto her bed letting the tears she’d been holding back fall freely in the privacy of her room.

Meanwhile, Eliot was also trying to come up with a solution that could help prevent this situation from escalating further than it already was. He was flipping through books in the library when something buzzed in his pocket. Activating the mirror, he was thankful to see Quentin’s familiar face. In the background, Eliot noticed a massive crater where their castle should be. It pissed him off more that he couldn’t even enjoy the fact that Quentin was back in Fillory.

“El!” Quentin exclaimed his eyes wide and his hair messy from running his hands through it so many times. “What’s going on I’ve tried calling you seven times now, but this is the first time it’s gone through!”

“Yeah well Princess of fuckertown is here and fucking shit up for us.” Eliot frowned, his voice strained with barely contained rage. “He’s demanding half the Wellspring’s power AND Margo’s hand in marriage.”

Quentin’s face paled and Eliot could hear voices in the background demanding to know what was going on. “He can’t do that,” Quentin shook his head, his voice shaky.

“Newsflash Q, until he returns our fucking castle, he can demand whatever he damn pleases and if this goes on any longer, we might have to give in.” Eliot screamed, pounding the table with his fist.

“No that’s bullshit. This guy sounds like a total dick. Ember and Umber choose Fillory for the Wellspring not Loria, probably for good reason. Not to mention, we absolutely cannot let him marry Margo.”

“What do you suggest we do then, Huh Q?” Eliot had examined this situation every which way and he couldn’t think of any alternatives under the pressure.

“We’ll figure out something El. We owe it to Margo,” Quentin pleaded with Eliot, begging him not to give up. “What if they forced you to marry Fen but she was a psycho who would wanted to throw knifes at you and forced you to have sex with her or else she would kill all your friends?”

Eliot looked down ashamed that he even considered Ess’s treaty, as Quentin’s words sunk in. “I see your point…”

“Hang in there okay. Penny, Benedict, and Calix and I are working together as we speak to figure out a way to get you guys out of this mess.” Quentin offered Eliot words of encouragement, biting his nails as he looked at the massive crater in the ground.

Eliot froze upon hearing voices coming from outside the library’s doors. “Hurry Q, we don’t have much more time. He has no issues with hurting innocent people.” Eliot whispered in a tense voice. The door cracked open and Eliot hastily deactivated the mirror and hid behind some shelves.

The unknown men muttered in low voices before closing the door and walking away. Eliot let out a sigh of relief, hating that he felt like he needed to hide away in his own home. After waiting a few more minutes he slipped out of the library and stealthily darted around the castle in search for Margo. He couldn’t find her, but her door was sealed shut so Eliot left her alone figuring she needed her privacy and promised to speak to her first thing the next morning.  

True to his word, he sought her out the next day and pulled her into a comforting embrace. “This whole marriage thing is absurd. We’ll deal with the damn consequences later, but I am not letting you marry someone you don’t know. It’s fucking insane.”

Appearing ragged and listless, Margo returned the hug, she felt like a mess and had dark circles under her eyes from her restless night. “Thank you,” she said softly. She was wearing a long-sleeved dress so she wouldn’t have to look at the dark bruise forming on her arm.

“I want what’s best for you Bambi.” Eliot kissed Margo’s forehead, pulling back so he could see her face. “So, what do you want to do about Princess Pissant, it’s your choice.” Eliot wiped away a tear that fell down Margo’s face.

Before Margo could respond, Penny came marching down the hallway. “Quentin figured it out, you guys have been so fucked with. You wouldn’t believe where you’ve been this whole time.”

A little while later, Eliot and Margo reconvened in the throne room with the rest of the Lorian crew. Eliot leaned back in his throne, a satisfied smirk on his face as he prepared for the epic showdown as the High Queen took the stage.

“I’ve reached my decision,” she said with a false pleasantries. “I will marry the prince of Loria on one condition. I want a tour of his kingdom right now.”

Ess looked between Margo and Eliot nervously. “Wedding first then tour.”

“I thought you might say that.” Margo turned around and after a few quick hand motions, the magic covering the castle was lifted.

Margo stood up, looming over the Lorian prince, and placed her hands on her hips furious. “You fucked with us.”

“Mm yes he did.” Eliot chimed in.

“You fucked with our castle.”

“Amen sister,” Eliot continued. He was thoroughly enjoying the verbal ass kicking going down in front of him.

Margo glared daggers at Ess, her voice deadly and cutting. “And now we’re gonna shove our Jimmy choos so far up your ass you’re going to taste next season.” Throwing all of the rage she felt over the last twenty-four hours into her words, she torn into him viciously.

“Exactly…” Eliot scrunched his brows in confusion at her threat. “Whatever that means.”

“Because the High King and I hereby declare war on the Kingdom of Loria.”

“Yes!” Eliot jumped up cheering. “Wait really?” He looked at Margo, an exasperated look on his face. They had just talked themselves out of one problem only to jump straight into a bigger one due to a declaration made out of blind anger.

Prince Ess glared at Margo, but he knew for the time being they had won. “You are going to regret doing that. Don’t forget about what I told you sweetheart, I’ll be back.”

“Please,” Margo laughed humorously. “The1980's villains called and they want their lines backs.”

The Lorians stormed out and Margo and Eliot watched satisfied. They headed down to the dungeons and released their people from their prisons. Everyone stared in awe at the monarchs, having a new-found respect for them once they told them that the Lorians had left defeated.

Under their breathe so no one else could hear, Margo and Eliot argued back and forth both angry at each other. Eliot was furious that Margo declared war on the Lorians and Margo was equally mad that Eliot wasn’t backing her up.

They gathered the members of the S.A.F.E. and headed to a room that served as an office for both Eliot and Margo to discuss what to do next. Margo cast several layers of wards around the room to prevent people from listening in.

Margo is pacing back and forth furious and wants revenge. “That dick is going to pay. He may be a Prince but he’s one letter away from looking and behaving like a real donkey.”

“What?” Fen asked confused. They were all trying to piece together what had happened with the Prince of Loria while they were being held captive. From the snippets they collected from their ruler’s arguments, it wasn’t good.

“War isn’t enough for you?” Eliot asked sarcastically, wishing he had a stiff drink in his hand.

Abigail whispered something to Rafe who spoke up. “Oh! Abigail says Ess sounds like Ass, it’s Earth humor.” He explained to Fen, not truly understanding it either. “Your majesties, I mean no disrespect but is War really the best call of action?”

“Yes exactly,” Tick called out his face red in anger. “In case you’ve forgotten we are not in a state where we can fund and support a massive war effort. But what do I know, perhaps Fillory would be better off not having money and burning to the ground!”

“Ignoring Tick’s comments, I’m sure he said out of frustration,” Heloise commented. “But he’s partially right, we don’t have the money nor the army to fight them.”

“We’ll figure out something. I’m not letting him get away with what he did.” Margo rubbed her sore arm absentmindedly, a movement not lost on Heloise who vowed to speak to her privately.

“What did he do exactly?” Tick questioned. “A peace treaty between our nations would have done Fillory a world of good.”

Fen spoke up, angered by Tick’s callused attitude. “Not at the expense of the Wellspring or more importantly sacrificing Queen Margo’s future.” She more than anyone, knew how valuable the decision to choose your own partner was. It would go against everything she believed in to stand by and watch her Queen forced into a marriage she didn’t want.

“What do you want us to do my Queen?” Heloise turned to the Queen who had begun pacing back and forth. Everyone started talking at once, shouting out ideas, each more outlandish than the last.  

Eliot noticed Rafe in the corner of the room having been suspiciously quiet the entire time. Rafe appeared to be in a heated conversation with Abigail and kept sending nervous looks toward Tick. Eliot walked over to agitated man and asked, “Have something to share with the class Rafe?”

“Oh n-no sorry Sire!” Rafe rubbed his hands anxiously, avoiding eye contact with the King.

A hesitant knock sounded on the door and Heloise slowly opened it. “Quentin!” Margo cried out running over to him and gave her wayward friend a massive hug pulling him into the office.

“How are you?” Quentin asked her, kissing her cheek and looking her over for any injuries. “Eliot told me about that creepy asshat.”

“I’ll be good once I chop off his dick and shove down his throat to keep him from ever speaking or procreating. It’d be my gift to womankind.” Margo snarled her teeth, playing out the scene in her head.

“Um…right then.”

Eliot pushed Margo out of the way and pulled Quentin into his own hug. “You aren’t allowed to leave for so long anymore. Too much shit has happened, and we need you here. What took you so long to get here anyway?”

“Calix and Ace wanted to make sure that the Lorians actually left the castle, so we followed behind them for a little.”

“Hey Q, you want to introduce us to your…friends?” Margo had let her boys have their moment and stepped toward Calix to get a quick debrief on the quest. When she noticed the makeshift group following behind them, she approved of how protective they seemed of Quentin.

“Right this is Willow and Ace, they helped Calix and I a lot on our quest. If it wasn’t for them, we’d probably be dead several times over.” Quentin introduced the two beings to the rest of the group.

“In that case, welcome to Fillory,” Fen reached out a warm hand to the newcomers.

“Yeah you just got to ignore the fact that we now have both the Lorians and the FU fighters out for our blood.” Eliot said feeling rather snarky.

“Foo fighters?” Ace snickered but sobered when he noticed the tense atmosphere. “Seriously? What is this place?”

Calix had been filled in on the latest situation by Quentin but wanted to get more information. “What’s going on?”

“Where to start…Magic is dying, our people might slowly starve to death if we can’t get our crops growing, and so far half the kingdom hates us…am I forgetting anything?” Eliot listed off their problems, counting them with his fingers.  

Tick coughed and answered the rhetorical question, “We are now in war with Loria.”

“Oh yes, thank you Tick.”

As a dryad and one who spent years trying to drive away humans, Willow was overwhelmed by the chaos she had walked into. She strolled over to the window and peered outside, sensing the magic surrounding the kingdom. “The life force of the forest is dimming, but there is a patch over there that is growing stronger.” She pointed out several plots of land that surrounded the castle.

Eliot wandered over to her, curious by what she saw. “Oh yes that’s our farming land we have started.”  He was proud of their efforts, according to his research they were on track to have a good harvest in a few short months.

Willow eyed Eliot critically and nodded in approval by what she saw. “If you provide me with a small piece of land to plant my trees, I will assist you in the revival of the plant life in Fillory.”

“Deal.” Eliot shook her hand; glad Quentin had found people that could potentially help them.

“Speaking of the quest, did you find a god to help us with the Wellspring?” Heloise asked the youngest King.

Quentin blinked rapidly, trying to figure out how to break the bad news. “Um…yes and no.”

Margo had paused her argument with Tick when she heard his response. “Come again?”

Over the next forty-five minutes, the group of questers told the rest of the Fillorians about the quest and how Bacchus screwed them over. However, it was not for nothing. To stop their anger, Quentin held up the small vial of life saving potion the god gave them after deeming him worthy.

“Perhaps I should take that your majesty. I can go and put it someplace safe.” Tick’s eyes stared hungrily at the priceless potion.  

“Actually,” Calix sent a suspicious look toward Tick and placed a hand on Quentin’s shoulder; a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by Eliot. “I believe it would be safest in the hands of Quentin, he was the one Bacchus gifted it to after all.”

“I agree.” Ace once again surprised Quentin by coming to his defense. “It took him two weeks to get that potion. Let me break that down for you for the full effect. He spent 336 hours or 20,160 minutes putting his literal blood, sweat, and tears into his efforts to accomplish that quest.”

To Ace’s amusement, the rest of the group stared at the satyr in amazement by the quick calculations he was able to do mentally.  

Quentin chuckled softly, amused by their reaction though he too found it impressive. “He likes math.”

“Damn straight.” Ace smirked, giving Quentin a quick high five. Fen proceeded to ask him a series of complicated math calculations and clapped when he got them all correct.

“As fascinating as that is,” Margo clapped her hands interrupting them. “We have a war to prepare for.”

“It’ll take them three days to return to Loria. I say we adjourn this meeting and revisit it at a later time. We are all exhausted, stressed out, and in no position to be making any big decisions.” Heloise wisely suggested.

“Fine.” Margo agreed. Everyone began shuffling out of the office, off to try and relax from their stresses.

Before Eliot could leave with Quentin, Rafe grabbed his arm and asked if he could speak to him in private. Quentin hovered in the doorway but El told him to meet by the staircase in the west wing. “You can tell me all the details of the quest you left out when telling everyone else.” Eliot winked at Quentin when he flushed red.

Once Eliot and Rafe were alone in the room, Rafe took a deep breath and said, “Abigail wanted me to tell you of a prophecy in our land. It foretells of a peacemaker coming to restore order and bring about an age of prosperity.”

“And you couldn’t tell me that when everyone else was around because…”

“Not everyone believes in the prophecy.”

“Alright, well say it’s right.How will we know who this ‘ _peacemaker_ ’ is?” Eliot took a course on prophecies back in Brakebills, but only because it was a mandatory class. He personally didn’t put much stock into them, but it was obviously important to Rafe.

“That I’m not sure of,” Rafe admitted ruefully wishing he could tell King Eliot more.

“Well I’ll keep an eye out, thanks Rafe and Abigail.” Even if he didn’t believe in it, Eliot appreciated Rafe letting him know.

Eliot left the office and head across the castle to the staircase to meet with Quentin. He spotted the younger man sitting on the marble staircase waiting for him. He sat down next to Quentin on the steps and threw an arm around him, unable to keep himself from having physical contact with the younger King.

Eliot could see the scars on Quentin’s face, just starting to heal. He was sure there were dozens of other cuts and bruises the man probably had and was hiding from them all, knowing Q. “So, about this hyena…”

The halls were filled with the sound of Quentin’s voice recounting his adventures, drawing in a crowd of palace workers who secretly stopped in their duties to listen to their King’s tale. Little did he know that stories of his adventures would spread throughout the land, sending hope that perhaps Fillory finally had decent rulers that could fix their problems.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 10/6/2019

After a couple of days, the stresses of the latest threats to their kingdom settled down to a more manageable level and everyone returned to their daily routines. In one of the informal dining rooms, a large group of people were enjoying a delicious brunch courtesy of the kitchen staff. The cooks of the castle were thrilled to have such a large number of people to serve once more and whipped up an extra special feast for them to enjoy.

The room was located in one of the many towers of the castle and had massive windows that dominated the far wall, showing a nearly 180° view of the surrounding forests. A large ovular table was placed under an elaborate chandelier, that could sit up to twelve people. Near the windows, a few comfortable couches and plush chairs were placed for people to sit in and relax.  This particular dining room had been traditionally used by the monarchs and their closest friends and families to relax and spend time together.

At the head of the table, Eliot was sitting next to Quentin trying to convince him to wear his crown. “El, it’s just so heavy! And um it gets caught in my hair.” Quentin complained, playing with the fruit on his plate while trying to ignore his crown Eliot placed on the table in front of them.

“You look so kingly when you wear it Q! Well not right now with those god awful clothes you insist on wearing.” Eliot moaned about the earth clothes Quentin brought back with him from his quest. “What happened to all those gorgeous Fillorian outfits we made for you?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Quentin told Eliot a half truth. “The clothes here are so fancy and there’s so many of them, wearing my own clothes is just simpler.”

“Calix, why aren’t you helping Quentin? What are we paying you for?” Eliot teased the man, throwing a grape at his head. The man in question had been alternating between drafting a letter and watching their argument with much amusement.

“I’ve tried my King.” Calix held his hands up in defense. “I’ve set out a few outfits for him every morning, but he ignores them all.”

Quentin sighed and rolled his eyes at the look of betrayal Eliot sent him. “Okay I’m just not very good at picking out what to wear and I feel stupid in all of the outfits,” Quentin finally confessed. “Please just let me wear my own clothes.” Quentin pouted at Eliot, giving him his best puppy dog eyes.

“Fine…for now.” Eliot sent him a mock glare but placed Quentin’s crown on the man’s brunette head. “But you are wearing this.”

Across the table a more civil conversation was taking place as Fen turned to Willow and Ace and asked how they were liking Fillory so far.

“The land King Eliot gifted me is perfect! There is a small pond on the grounds which Pieces is loving. I’ve planted my willow trees this morning and I am optimistic they will thrive here,” Willow said cheerfully. She enjoyed Fillory so far, it reminded her of the simple times back on Earth when she was much much younger. They offered her a room inside the castle, but she preferred to sleep outside by her trees.

Fen smiled warmly at the older dryad glad that she was happy here after all she had suffered through back on Earth. “What about you Ace?”

“I can’t complain,” he said feigning indifference. Ace was secretly awestruck by the beautiful place he now could call home, and the incredibly generous people he had become acquainted with thanks to Quentin. “You’re knife collection was fucking awesome! Thanks for showing it to me. I can’t believe you made them all, you have to show me your workshop one day.”

“Of course!” Despite Fen’s air of innocence and naivety and Ace’s gruff realistic outlook on life, the two had quickly foraged a strong friendship.

Completing the group, Margo and Heloise were talking, well rather, arguing with Tick over politics and war tactics. Rafe sat next to them feeding Abigail some Cecropia leaves and occasionally spoke up in their defense.

“Hey Rafe, could you pass me that bowl of  berries?” Eliot asked politely.

“Certainly Sire.” Rafe picked up the bowl full of ripe fruit and leaned across the table to pass it over.

Fen saw the movement from the corner of her eye and panicked when she noticed something out of place. “DON’T EAT THAT!” She reached out her hand and flicked the bowl into the air, sending berries scattering all over the table. The glass bowl slid off the table and shattered on the floor.

“Fen what the fuck?” Margo screeched standing up to avoid the cascade of berries falling from the table.

Fen stared around suspiciously at the workers in the room. “Some of those berries were poisonous. Every child of Fillory is taught to recognize them, but even then, accidents happen all the time since to they look so similar to regular blueberries.”

Willow picked up a berry and studied it, noticing the subtle differences in texture and color.

“One bite would have killed you King Eliot.” Rafe said solemnly feeling guilty for not noticing the potential danger himself. He had lost a friend as a child when they accidentally ate one of those berries.

Heloise bent down and picked up a small piece of paper she noticed that fluttered from the bowl. It was stained with the fruit juices and she could just about make out the short message. “Enjoy Earthlings, -Dresden.” She read aloud, cursing under her breath.

“Fucking FU fighters, they are getting on my damn nerves.” Margo ranted. She wanted to know how they kept getting into her castle to set up their death traps.

“Okay seriously what are Foo Fighters and why do they have such a fucking stupid name.” Ace sure as hell wasn't going to sit back while some group tried to kill those around him.

Heloise turned to Ace and quickly explained the situation. “The Filliorian United Fighters hate Earthlings, because here in Fillory only Children of Earth can rule. They started as a peaceful group, but the ideals twisted by extremists who want to eliminate anyone from Earth who resides in Fillory.”

Margo glared around the room at no one in particular. “This is the second time they almost killed Eliot.”

“This doesn’t make sense,”  Fen muttered. Her brows were furrowed in confusion as something about this scene was bothering her.

“Huh? What do you mean Fen?” Quentin asked. He was standing close to Eliot with one hand placed on the older magician's tense shoulder.

“Those poison berries were out where anyone could have eaten them, not just you guys.” Fen had a troubled expression on her face as she explained her concerns. “Normally, the fruits would have been specifically given to only the kings and queens to eat. They don’t usually go after the Fillorians in the castle as well.”

Eliot scoffed harshly and replied, “Dresden is clearly a maniac who hates us and probably anyone we associated with. If he kills a few innocent people in the process I doubt he’ll care all that much.” Those attempts at his life were getting tedious.

Turning to the servers in the room, Quentin told them to warn the cooks of the poisonous berries so no one could eat them accidentally.

The three magicians set about cleaning the table with a cleaning charm, but the magical flow tapered out and the berries fall once more. All of them gasped, sensing the magic disappear from inside them. Their powers flickered on and off several more time before finally stabilizing.

Tick nervously rubbed his hands. “The blackouts are getting worse.” They wearily tried the spell again and this time were successful. After finishing cleaning up the mess, the group left the dining room and traveled to their office once more.

“Has this happened a lot lately?” Quentin hadn’t noticed the blackouts during his time on Earth, but then again, he had been pretty busy.

“Yes, and it's getting worse every day. The first few weeks there was only one blackout a week, but now we have one a day. It only lasts a few minutes, but I fear for what could happen when these get worse too,” Rafe voiced his worries. If magic went out for good, he and Abigail would not be able to communicate with each other.

Willow was by the windows starting pots of soil for plants that would help them to destress and lower anxiety. “How will the lack of magic effect Fillory?”

“Our people should be fine, magicians are rather rare here despite being a magical land.” Fen lent her a helping hand, planting small saplings into the damp soil. “It’s the crops and animals we are worried about. If they start dying, our entire kingdom would be out of our main source of food and income.”

“Farming is your main source of income?!” Ace exclaimed flabbergasted. “What about the treasury reserves? Any backup sources of commerce to support the economy?”

 Margo had been sitting on her desk listening to the conversation while examining her nails. “Listen Ace, think medieval time’s bartering system and you have our current economic infrastructure.”

“I'd hate to add more bad news, but we are almost out of money.” Tick tugged at his collar, a bead of sweat running down his forehead.

“WHAT?!” Several people shouted from around the office.

Quentin looked at Tick in shock. “How is that possible, what about the nugget beetles? They literally shit precious stones.”

“He’s lying,” Willow accused. Her eyes studying Tick’s body language and sensing a deception.

“How dare you!?” Tick began slowly edging his way toward the door. “Why would I lie?”

“You have been acting weird lately, disappearing at random times and giving advice that makes no sense.” Fen never did like him, he always seemed to be out for himself rather than the good of the Kingdom. Calix withdrew his sword from its scabbard on his hip and stepped closer to the suspicious man.

“This is ridiculous tell them.” Tick turned to Rafe and Heloise to defend him, but the two were visibly struggling against an unseen force.

“They’ve been spelled.” The more the fought the curse, the clearer Ace could see the magic that surrounded them coming from the necklace around Tick’s neck.

Margo hopped down from the desk and glared daggers at Tick. “Are you sure?” She cracked her knuckles in anticipation.

“Positive.”

“Enough for me.” Margo threw a revealing spell over the two. They glowed bright red and gasped, falling to the ground as the curse was lifted.

“Tick is embezzling the money!” Rafe cried finally free to do so. He had been forced silent by that damn curse for far too long.

Heloise stood up and pointed her sword at Tick’s neck, preventing him from leaving before his transgressions were aired. “Ember’s hairy balls thank gods that’s over with.” Calix and Fen join her and surrounded Tick, their own weapons ready in their hands.

“I can explain.” Tick’s beady eyes darting from person to person, sweating as they closed in on him.

“I bet you could, go on I want to hear the load of bullshit you’re about to dump.” Eliot ordered. He was absolutely furious, and sparks flared from his fingertips itching for revenge.

“I-I-I—”

“Thought so.” Magic flew from Eliot and Margo’s fingers hitting Tick straight in the face, causing painful boils and cuts to emerge all over his skin.

Rafe watched with satisfaction, wishing he could get his own revenge in somehow. “We’ve been under a silencing curse for months now. That amulet he wears doesn’t just signify him as the leader of the S.A.F.E., it also gives him a small amount of power. Martin enlisted him to slowly corrupt the kingdom and he spent years working with the Beast to lower the standards of this kingdom.”

Quentin marched up and punched Tick in the face. “You were working with that monster!? After all we went through to defeat him you were helping him?!” Blood poured down Tick’s face and he clenched his nose in pain.

“How much money we talkin’ about exactly?” Margo asked, her voice sharp as a blade.

Heloise’s voice shook with anger. “He probably has upwards of half the kingdom’s fortune stashed away someplace.”

“Is that a lot?” Willow asked. The Fillorians in the room nodded their heads stiffly, trying to contain their anger.

Fillory use to be a thriving kingdom with more money than all of the surrounding kingdom’s combined and then some to spare. But due to the corruption the kingdom was degrading, and their enemies took notice making Fillory even more vulnerable.

“You’re so fucking fired!” Eliot declared and the necklace around Tick’s neck fell to the ground. “Where is our money, you jackass?”

Tick sneered at them all. “Why should I tell you? None of you deserve it, this Kingdom is better off without you idiots messing with everything.” He had been stealing small amounts of money ever since he got the job. When the latest Earth hopefuls claimed the throne, Tick saw it as his chance to start laundering away even more.

“No, you fucking did that yourself.” Quentin had to be held back by both Ace and Rafe to prevent him from physically attacking Tick again.

“Where is the money?” Heloise reiterated the question. “It’s the one thing we were never able to work out.” Tick kept stubbornly quiet and refused to utter a single word more.

Fen’s face was distorted into a vicious glare that was out of place with her usual happy demeanor. “Don’t worry, we can get him to talk and we’ll get him to tell us all of the other vile things he’s done.” Everyone with weapons dragged his sorry ass down to the dungeons eager to start the interrogation.

“What a fucking nightmare and it just keeps getting worse and worse doesn’t it.” Eliot complained sitting at his desk burying his face in his hands. “What else has Tick done that you couldn’t tell us before?”

Rafe cleared his throat and took at a piece of parchment and quill to take notes as he spoke. “To begin with, he isn’t wrong our country is now really poor, but only because he’s been stealing all the money away and raising the taxes to astronomical portions.”

“Well now that we have the money back, can’t we just give it back to the kingdom.” Quentin suggested leaning against the edge of Eliot’s desk.

“It’s not that simple,” Ace commented. He then went on to explain the delicacy of building up an economy after a prolonged period of poverty.

“It gets worse I’m afraid.” Rafe continued regretfully. “Tick also passed a bunch of laws that Martian crafted specifically to put down the Fillorian citizens. It’s part of the reason they hate the monarchs so much. Additionally, there were many laws put in place that classified those who aren’t fully human as subspecies with little to no rights and made a lot of enemies.”

“Subspecies!?” Willow bellowed. “How dare he!” She fumed, that man was just as bad as the people back on earth who tore down her trees.

Margo rubbed her temples thinking about the amount of work they had ahead of them. “We need to sit down and go over every law made in the last fifty years and rework what they reworked. Ugh the paperwork.” She silently wondered if it was even worth it.

They spend the next couple of hours drafting a list of all the things that needed to be resolved as soon as possible. One of those tasks was setting up an official currency system, which they put Ace in charge of much to his delight. Margo even suggested that they could put their face on their new money.

Fen walked back into the office, blood splatters on her dress which they all purposefully choose to ignore. “We haven’t gotten him to talk yet but just give us a couple of hours and we’ll make him speak.”

“Do whatever needs to be done.” Eliot wasn’t in the mood to be merciful. Tick fucked them over and they weren’t sure they could fix all the problems his treasonous and selfish actions had created.

“We are going to search his room here in the castle as well as his old family estate. I was wondering I could take a few guards along with me.”

“Of course Fen.”

“Hey can I got with you?” Ace asked, he was in desperate need to stretch his legs after spending so much time in the office. “I have a small ability to sense magic so I could be of use.”

“Yeah! That would be so helpful Ace thanks!” The two quickly left soon after, eager to start their search.

Willow too was getting restless and decided to jump at the opportunity to get away. “I’m going to go check on my trees to make sure they aren’t affected by the power outages.”

Fen and Ace’s trip to the Pickwick estate proved to be successful when they found their lost fortune hidden away in the basement. They couldn’t believe the amount of precious stones and gold he had hoarded away that could have gone to help the kingdom.

Back at the castle, they raced to the office to tell the other’s the good news when Ace noticed a hallway ahead of them that he hadn’t seen before. “What’s down there?” He called out to Fen.

“Down where?” Fen asked. Ace pointed down the hallway, but Fen only stared confused. “There’s nothing there, it’s just a wall.”

Ace walked closer to the hallway studying the thin layer of magic that concealed the passage. He could sense the surprisingly strong wards Tick must have set up set up when he had the amulet to draw power from. Now that Tick no longer had that power, the wards were failing allowing Ace to spot them.

Taking a chance, Ace walked pass the wards and down the hall a few feet. He turned when Fen gasped as he seemly passed through a solid wall. Ace reached out his hand and pulled her into the hallway. They walk down the dusty corridor, lined with torches that lit their way. A large wooden door stopped their exploration when they couldn’t find a way to unlock it.

Fen spotted a circular dent in the wall, the surface of which was rough to the touch. Upon further study she found there was a faint outline of the Fillorian crest etched into the wood. “I think this is the ritual room.” Ace and Fen turn to each other before running back to the office.

Bursting through the door out of breath, Fen cried out, “We don’t need Tick anymore! We found Fillory’s fortune and the ritual room on our own!”

A short while later they were all gathered together in the office discussing the S.A.F.E. initiation process. It was agreed unanimously that it should be done as soon as possible. The only hold up was the monarchs deciding who they wanted as members of their S.A.F.E.

“Well technically you could have appointed as many members as you want, but traditionally each monarch chooses just two to represent them.” Heloise had read up about the S.A.F.E. anticipating the revival of the great council.

Sending a look to Quentin and Margo, who nodded back in agreement Eliot said, “Rafe, we’d like you to be the newest leader of the S.A.F.E.”

Rafe’s eyes popped open in shock and choked up, looking around the room he received nothing but grins and nods of encouragement. “I’d be honored.”

“We really don’t know too many people yet, let alone those we trust.” Eliot continued, happy that at least one problem was being resolved. “That being said, Fen as promised you and Rafe will be my choices for the S.A.F.E.”

Fen let out a small squeal and hugged Eliot, forgetting proper decorum. “Oh sorry! I didn’t mean to…” Her words were cut off when Eliot wrapped his arms around her to return the embrace.

Quentin spoke up next, nervously biting his lips. “Um…I’d like Willow and Ace to be my representatives, if that’s okay with you.”

“Me?” Ace was just as shocked as Rafe. “I’m honored but why not Calix?”

“I do not wish to be involved in politics. I’ll of course offer my advice, but I have other responsibilities that would prevent me from putting my all into this job.” Calix had no hard feelings of not being a member of the S.A.F.E. and Quentin already told him that even if he didn’t want to join, he was still a valued friend and honorary member of their council.

Ace crossed his arms over his chest. “So, I’m your second option?”

“I-I—no I just um…”

“Relax, I’m joking. I’d gladly represent you and serve Fillory. I know I haven’t been part of this group long, but I won’t let you down.”

“I too accept. Thank you, Quentin,” Willow said softly.

“Well I guess that just leaves me.” Margo was the last to speak and turned to the last remaining person in the room. “Heloise, I like your style and I’d like you to be my pick for the S.A.F.E.”

Heloise bowed her head and accepted with pride. “What about your last member?”

“I’m going to hold off for now.”

“Okay so what do we need to do to get initiated?” Fen was practically bouncing on her feet in excitement, she couldn’t wait to tell her father of her prestigious new role.

“Everything we need would be in the S.A.F.E. room.” Rafe pointed out, grimacing when he looked down at the floor to where Tick’s amulet had fallen. “We also need that necklace, but don’t touch it. It’s been cursed by Martin so they couldn’t sense Tick’s deception and probably has a few other nasty spells to prevent someone from becoming the next leader of the S.A.F.E.”

They levitated the necklace behind them and wandered to the warded hallway. It took the combined powers of Quentin, Eliot, and Margo to lower the wards surrounding the entry way, but they were eventually able to.

Arriving at the locked door, they figured that the amulet was the key and soon they entered a vast room with vaulted walls. There were no windows as they were in the very heart of the castle. The walls were covered in strange writings that wrapped around the surrounding walls. A large fire pit was in the center of the room and a small alter stood just behind it.

Rafe walked to the small alter and picked up a scroll placed there long ago. It was written in an ancient Fillorian language and he did a quick translation for them all. “The first thing we need to do is cleanse the amulet from the corruption in the sacred fire.”

Guided by Rafe, they all took hold of one of the several torches placed by the fire pit. On the count of three, they lit their torches and simultaneously set fire to the pit. Quentin flinched back when deep blue flames burst out of it. Eliot was the only one who noticed the slight movement and squeezed Quentin’s shoulder in comfort.

They tossed the necklace into the fire and the metal heated up until it burned bright red. The curse fought back, and an ashy image of a moth floated above the fire. With a final gust of wind the flames were extinguished and the cleansing complete.

Rafe picked up the necklace and placed it around his neck. The powers wouldn’t recognize him until they completed the next part of the ritual, but he felt as though the necklace was welcoming him as its rightful owner.

Calix, serving as the witness and leading the ritual, took over from Rafe and guided them into place around the alter. Eliot stood tall and proud in the middle with Margo and Quentin standing by his sides, each of their advisors placed in front of them.  

In a solemn voice he began the loyalty oath for the S.A.F.E. members. “Do you swear to always do what’s best for Fillory?”

“I do.” They chanted in unison.

“Do you swear to guide the monarchs and advise them to the best of your abilities?”

“I do.” Around them the wind began to pick up once more, billowing around the room. The lights began to dim, and a steady beat of a drum could be heard picking up in tempo as the ritual continued on.

“Do you vow to not betray the monarchs knowingly?”

“I do.”

Calix held up a onyx blade made of the same rocks that were found at the Wellspring. “You must now all cut your hands with the ceremonial blade then place your hand over the crest of Fillory.” He pointed to the middle of the alter, where the crest was carved into the marble.

“Oh my grandpa made that!” Fen broke the silence unable to contain her excitement. Everyone turned to look at her and she blushed deeply. “Sorry, carry on.”

The blade was sharp as the day it was foraged. The cuts they made were healed as their blood was soaked into the ancient marble alter. A strange tingling sensation could be felt running through their body as the magic of the ritual culminated to the final stage.

Calix read the scroll for the final part of the ritual then searched the room, looking for the special chalices. Finding them, he poured in a deep purple liquid from a bottle that was under preservation charms. He passed the cups out to each of the eight individuals partaking in the ritual.

Margo swirled the drink around staring into the chalice, her face scrunched up with disgust. “Does anyone else get the feeling we just joined a cult.”

“We basically did.” Eliot smirked, clinking their glasses together.

“One way in,” Quentin teased.

“No way out.” Eliot quipped finishing the statement.

“Here’s to Fillory.” Margo held her glass up in the air and chugged down the strangely thick liquid that tasted of metal. The rest followed their lead and quickly drank down the potion.

They followed and quickly drank down the potion. The writing on the wall began glowing and the ancient magic around the room swirled around, them judging their very souls. Once it deemed them worthy, it wrapped around them and finalized the vows they had taken. They dropped the cups to the ground as they felt the warm welcoming magic of Fillory settle inside them.

Fillory was broken in many ways, but change was coming. However, whether they fix the country completely or break the world as they knew it beyond repair, was up to them.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop Woop! Another new chapter for you all to enjoy (hopefully). I'm biased but i really loved writing this chapter. So much so that rather then going to bed on time last night, I stayed up way later than I should have given that I wake up at 6:00 a.m. for work. WORTH IT! :D
> 
> Edited: 10/12/2019

With the S.A.F.E. newly initiated, they spent the next several weeks going over every single law that had been made by the past monarchs of Fillory. They hoped to start the exhausting process of bringing Fillory a bit closer to modern law and reverse many of the laws that Martin Chatwin had introduced. Each change was carefully thought out to maximize the benefits for all and not to make too many radical changes that would ultimately lead to more unrest. Two giant blackboards, Quentin “borrowed” from Brakebills, dominated the room intended for them to visualize what needed to get done was filled with the scribbles of vague ideas.

In addition, they continued to excavate the gems and gold Tick had stored away documenting each piece carefully. It was a slow process, but by cataloging each piece they were able to generate a clearer idea of how much money they had to work with.

The biggest problem, one of them at least, was trying to figure out where the money needed to go most. In short, every aspect of Fillory’s vast kingdom needed the money, but they couldn’t just flood the country with it. Instead they needed to strategically build their kingdom back up from the ground.

While the S.A.F.E. members all worked well together as their council was built on mutual trust and respect, they frequently bumped heads. The group of eight individuals often had differing opinions on where to dole out the money first. Thankfully Calix took charge as the groups mediator and had been able to stop many arguments from getting too heated.

Rafe, Ace, and Fen wanted to use the money to help the people by building up the ecosystem bit by bit, but each suggested opposing ways to do so. Quentin on the other hand, thought the money should go to fixing the Wellspring as overall that would help resolve more of their problems.

Margo wanted to allot the money towards funding the war efforts. While Heloise agreed, she also wanted the money to go to reconstructing the towns demolished by the Beast. Willow countered by suggesting they use the money to rebuild the bridges that had been burnt with all the magical beings in the realm. As for Eliot, well he just wanted the discussion to be over.

Speaking of the war efforts, all had been quiet from Loria except for a formal document sent to them via messenger goat. The document stated that the King of Loria acknowledged the declaration of war between the two kingdoms. He declared that Loria would be ready to fight to the death for the sole use of the Wellspring’s power. All they needed now was to build up their army and weapons reserve to prepare for a war that could break out at any moment…easy right? HA!

After two weeks of doing nothing but arguing with each other and going around in circles, something needed to change. The solution to their problem, proposed by Fen, was so simple they were embarrassed to have not thought of it sooner. Fen reckoned the best way to figure out what the kingdom truly needed, was to ask the people living in it.

Thus, the right to petition was introduced to Fillory. During special council sessions, which would be held twice a month, anyone could come and voice their complaints directly to the monarchs. In return, they would try their best to solve their problem or offer advice as needed.

The morning of the first court session, Quentin woke up early nervous for the day to begin. Although he had technically been ruling for nearly a month, meeting the people he vowed to govern made it all the more serious.

He shakily got ready putting an effort to wear the appropriate Fillorian attire then placed his crown on his head. Grimacing at his reflection in the mirror, Quentin briefly contemplated locking himself in his room and never leaving. Fighting his anxiety, he left his bedchamber and made his way to the throne room where they would hold each session.

In preparation for implementing this new idea, they sent out messengers to every town inviting them to the castle to voice their grievances if they wanted to. The initial feedback was that though their people were still wary of them, they were intrigued by the notion. Never before had they been given the chance to speak directly to the Kings and Queens.

Entering the throne room Quentin noticed that they removed Alice’s throne from the raised dais. They had discussed the idea the day before, though Quentin agreed at the time, seeing it not there threw him through a loop. Removing the empty throne gave a more united image to those coming to see the monarchs, which was their intention.

Just below the platform were seats for the S.A.F.E. members. As per protocol, Calix stood to the side of the room with some of the other palace workers and guards. After settling down into their thrones, Eliot nodded his head toward the guards signifying that they were ready to begin.

As the doors opened, Quentin felt his heart beating faster in his chest. After a few minutes and still no one had entered, they worried that no one would come. A steady rumbling caught their attention. Suddenly people began pouring into the throne room and were prompted by the guards to form a single file line in front of the monarchs.

“They’re going to need more parchment…” Rafe whispered in awe. He looked toward the group of people they hired to take notes during the meetings so they could revisit the issues later if needed.

An older gentleman in simple garments stood at the front of the line, fiddling nervously with his cane. “Hello, what is your name?” Eliot asked waving him forward.

“Oh, I’m Otis your majesties.” He bowed respectfully before them gathering his thoughts. Otis wiped a bead of perspiration that dripped down his forehead. He was nervous being the first to speak and wasn't sure if they would take his complaints seriously. There had been many monarchs in his lifetime that made great promises that never fell through. He didn't want to get his hopes up that this scheme was any different.

Margo sat straight in her throne and focused on the man speaking. “What can we do for you today?”

“My house is old and in desperate need of repairs. For starters the roof is made of straw and needs to be re-thatched before it collapses, but I'm too old to do it myself anymore.”

“Is there anyone who could help you?”

Otis rubbed his beard in thought. “There’s a group of young man in the town over who would be willing to do it, but they have no money for the materials, and I can't pay them much.”

“Tell the men that if they come to the castle in one weeks’ time, we will loan them the money they need on the condition they open up a business to help others as well.” Eliot figured this way they would be able to create new businesses in the kingdom to build up the economy as well as help the man out.

“Thank you!” Otis was overjoyed with the way things had turned out. “I’ll let them know!” For too long he felt helpless as he watched the kingdom slowly degraded. For the first time he had hope that things could finally turn around and he had a newfound respect for these new rulers.

Otis stepped out of the line and moved toward the side, curious as to how they would try to solve the other problems. Quentin waved over a worker and asked her to bring the older man a chair to sit in for which Otis was grateful.

The meeting continued in a similar fashion and they faced problems that ranged from a family of seven needing an new cow to bring in extra revenue, to trying to resolve feuds between old estranged friends. One precocious child wanted the Queen’s advice on which of her friends to choose as her best friend.  

After a short break they resume the meeting. Thus far, though some were cautious of their intentions, no one was overly hostile. They were able to help many of the people who came forward or offer tentative advice. A small crowd had joined Otis and watched from the sidelines.

“—And then I told me da that we didn't need to put that bean in her…” A chatty teenager had been talking for a near twelve minutes when angry voices sounded behind her.

“Hey!” “Watch it!” “We have been waiting for hours!” Several men barged in and pushed their way through the crowd to the front of the line.

“So, these are the people foolish enough to think they could actually become Kings and Queens,” The man sneered. He was a tall bulky man, wearing leather pants and a dark red shirt. “Wasn’t there four of you? Oh yes, that’s right she died after a day at being Queen. What a pity.”

 Quentin’s hands tightened around the arms of his chair, trying not to jump up and attack the man. “Who are you?”

“My apologies, your highnesses” He mocked, bowing to them. “I’m Dresden, you may have heard of me. I’m the leader of the FU Fighters.” Gasps were heard throughout the room, and the S.A.F.E members were on high alert. The guards moved swiftly surrounding the FU Fighters weapons at the ready to attack.

“You have some fucking nerve showing your face here after orchestrating two assassination attempts by you and your Fighters.” Margo crossed her legs showing off the small blade she had tucked away. “I can arrest you right here right now.”

“I'd like to see you try.” Dresden glared at the monarchs. “Look, you’re not the first from Earth to get swept up in the excitement of being Kings and Queens but to me, you’re just a bunch of children playing dress-up desperate to be special. This isn’t Earth! Fillory has a culture and traditions that only those who grew up here could ever hope to fully understand. Why don’t you go back to where you came from and let those who actually deserve it run Fillory?”

“Someone like you, you mean?” Eliot briefly locked eyes with Quentin and could see the man's matching anger reflected back at him.

Dresden's chest puffed up and he arrogantly proclaimed, “I don’t see why not.”

“I could think of a few reasons why that would be a terrible idea.”

“That's funny,” Dresden laughed dryly. “Because I could say the same about you three.” The watching spectator's eyes darted between the Kings and Queen and Dresden anxiously as they tried to anticipate what would happen next.

“It's time for you to leave, your time is done here.” Quentin commanded his voice hard as steel.

“No matter it will only be an matter of time until Fillory is in ruins, you give up, and someone more _qualified_ rules this land.” He laughed darkly, and with a snap of his fingers he and his affiliates disappeared. The magical residue left behind was dark and left an unsettling feeling in all those present.

They tried to proceed with the court session and heard several more petitions, but the tensions were too strained, and they called it an end for the day. After thanking everyone for coming and apologizing to those who didn't get the chance to speak, they headed to the offices for a impromptu council meeting.

The original office had been magically expanded with several rooms added branching off from the main one, allowing everyone to have their own space to work in. It was in the main office that they began a discussion about how they thought the first session went overall and ways to improve the procedure for the future. Other than Dresden, they were pleased with the turn out and had a sizable list of tasks set in motion to help their people.

Eliot was looking out the window watching as the guests left the castle. “Dresden is right you know," he grudgingly admitted. "We are strangers trying to come in and rule a place with a culture we know nothing about.”

“We know plenty of things about Fillory,” Quentin defended.

“Things that you read in a book written for kids.” Eliot scoffed turning to face the group. “It doesn’t tell you anything of the traditions of Fillory. Fuck there are a million things we encounter a day that are different than Earth.”

Margo realized he had a point but refused to just sit back and let Dresden and his merry band of FU Fuckers walk all over them. “So, then we’ll learn.”

Under the teachings of their Fillorian ambassadors, they spent the next few months immersing themselves in the culture, history, and traditions of their nation. Cramming as much knowledge as they could, they attempted to learn a lifetime of lessons in the shortest amount of time as possible.

There were many unwritten rules of etiquette that could make or break their reputation. One such unwritten rule that made absolutely no sense, stated that if you asked someone about the weather while scratching your face, you are actually calling that person an unwashed swine that slept with their neighbor’s wife.

Eliot and Margo flourished under their new guidance and even the most traditional Fillorians wouldn’t have known they didn’t grow up in Fillory. However, Quentin was starting to crack under the pressure but hid away his struggles from the group not wanting to appear weak.

One evening Calix opened up to Eliot about his concerns for Quentin. He noticed that the young King hadn’t been sleeping in his room and barely ate during mealtimes. Instead he spent all his time in the library when he wasn’t in meetings with the S.A.F.E. or learning more about Fillory.

Heading to the library, Eliot found Quentin fast asleep on the couch surrounded by piles of books on the Wellspring, Fillorian history, war tactics, magic, agriculture, politics, and more. Eliot leaned over and gently shook Quentin awake. “What are you doing Q?”

Still half asleep, his head swimming with random facts, Quentin replied with the first thing that popped into his head. “Trying to fix Fillory.”

“And you need to do that right now, all by yourself?” Eliot couldn’t believe he could still be surprised by the man’s lack of self-care. “You have a whole group of people to help you now Q.”

Quentin sighed and rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hands. “I already failed Alice and failed to fix the Wellspring with that stupid quest. I can’t fuck up again.” He refused to meet Eliot’s concerned stare.

“You didn’t fuck anything up Quentin.” Eliot grabbed Quentin’s hand and held it between his palms.

“How can you say that? I’m barely functioning as a King and in all those meetings I just sit back because I’m too afraid to speak.”

“You’re doing fine Q, we are all just trying our best here.” Eliot could see there was something more going on and he was determined to find the underlying cause of it. “Why is fixing the wellspring so important to you? Calix mentioned that you’ve been back several more times.”

“El, I’m not like you. Magic is the only thing that makes me special. If that goes then-then I’ll just be a nobody again.” Quentin confessed with tears in his eyes gripping onto Eliot’s hand.

“Oh Q, there is so much more that makes you special.” It killed Eliot to hear how little one of his best friends thought of himself. A brilliant idea came to Eliot and he perked up. “I know what will help you feel more like a King though.”

Quentin looked up at Eliot, studying the man cautiously. “What?”

“It’s a surprise, but first you are going to sleep in your own bed, and I’ll set everything up for tomorrow.” Eliot stood up and waited impatiently for Quentin to follow.

Quentin signed but saw that there was no getting out of whatever harebrained scheme Eliot had concocted. He went to grab some of his books, but Eliot pulled them out of his hands then proceeded to drag him out of the library.

Eliot knew Quentin well enough to know that he would try to sneak back the moment he left him alone so really, he had no choice but to tuck the younger man in and stay until he was fast asleep. At least that’s what he tried to convince himself.

True to his word, Eliot did exactly that. After Quentin was done with his nightly routine, Eliot pulled back the covers and tucked the younger man into the plush bed. He sat down onto the bed next to him and combed his hand through Quentin’s silky hair. Eliot was particularly satisfied when he watched as Q's face transformed from the tense stressed out look he had been wearing for the last few weeks to a more relaxed one.

Speaking softly of nonsensical things, Eliot observed as Quentin’s eyes slowly fluttered shut. He begun humming a soft tuneless song and soon Quentin fell fast asleep. Pleased that the first part of his plan worked, Eliot kissed his cheek then crept back outside making a mental list of all he’d need.

Bright and early the next morning Quentin was abruptly awoken by a swarm of people entering his room led by Calix and Ace. Two people strolled off into his bathroom while the other three or four workers headed into his closet.

“Wha-Whatss goin on?—” Quentin asked blearily through a yawn.

Calix and Ace gave each other conspiring grins and lifted the blankets up off of Quentin, who flinched back from the sudden cold. Working together, they each grabbed an arm and dragged him into the bathroom. The workers were preparing a luxurious bath for Quentin complete with the finest Fillory had to offer, plus a few extras Eliot had Margo collect back from Earth.

“Is this part of Eliot’s big surprise?”

“Of course,” Calix commented behind barely concealed humor.

Ace clapped his hands and turned to Quentin. “You good in here or do you need some help?”

“Get out.” Quentin pointed to the door and shoved the laughing men out. He closed the door and leaned against it.

“I don’t hear any water movements!” Ace called through the door. Quentin rolled his eyes but got undressed and stepped into the hot water. The calming scent of eucalyptus filled the air and he relaxed into the silky water. Leaning back, Quentin submerged himself fully and enjoyed the bath.

After an indeterminate amount of time, he picked up a fancy bottle of shampoo left on the side of the tub. Quentin recognized the brand and didn't want to think about how expensive the product was. Pouring some into his hands, he lathered it into his hair and repeated the process with the bottle of conditioner. Finally, he used a type of body wash that gently exfoliated his skin. Quentin was pretty sure that those were the same products Eliot used as they smelt just like the other man.

Finished with his bath, Quentin wrapped himself in a plush towel. However, he soon realized that they never left him any clothes to change into. He stood awkwardly by the door unsure if he should re-enter his room where a bunch of strangers were waiting.

He poked his head into his room and Calix tossed him some casual clothing to put on in the meantime. Finally dressed Quentin strolled into his room, only to be guided into a chair set up in front of his mirror. Several workers set upon him, some begun rubbing lotions on his arms and face and the others worked to fix his nails. Quentin groaned in appreciation as someone in front of him started massaging his feet.

Calix moved to stand behind Quentin and proceeded to fiddle with his hair, talking in low murmurs to a young woman assisting him. Picking up a pair of scissors, Calix trimmed his hair getting rid of the dead ends. He then applied a few products in Quentin’s hair to make it more manageable. Finally, he expertly braided the long strands into an elaborate French braid.

“Hey Calix, how do you know how to style hair?” Quentin asked curiously observing how Calix's deft fingers worked with ease that only came with years of practice.

“When I was growing up, we couldn’t afford going out to get our hair cut, so my mum taught my siblings and I how to do our own hair. The skill came in handy and later on I did my wife’s hair to treat her every once in a while.” He tied off Quentin’s hair with a leather band.

After his hair styling was complete the palace workers left, and Quentin thanked them for their time. Ace ushered him into his closet and picked a few Fillorian inspired outfits for Quentin to try on.

Quentin saw that they organized his closet into a more functional setup so it would be easier for him to pick out his outfits going forward. A few new ones were in there as well that were simpler than those that Eliot or Margo liked to wear.

He tried on a dark purple shirt with silver embroidered pinstripes and matched it with black pants. The material was surprisingly lightweight and would be suitable to wear during the warm summer days.

Walking out of the closet he immediately turned bright red when Ace called out, “Damn Q, purple makes you look sexy.” Quentin couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in question at the satyr’s comment.

“What just because I don’t find sex appealing doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes.” Ace rolled his eyes and mockingly glared at the man. “Do we need to have another talk about judging people?”

“You look good Quentin, like a proper Fillorian King.” Calix placed Quentin’s silver crown on the King’s head completing the look. Quentin stared into the mirror surprised by what he saw. The man looking back at him was more refined and regal but still undoubtedly him. With this version of himself, it was easier to believed he that could actually lead a country.

“I cannot wait to see Eliot’s reaction…fuck I wish I had a camera or something to record it with.” Ace smacked his forehead for forgetting. Quentin looked confused but before he could comment, they ushered him out of the room and toward the dining room for breakfast.

The conversation in the room stilted as Quentin strolled into view. The small changes together added up to a whole new look for their King. Eliot was floored by Quentin’s appearance; it was even better than he had anticipated. His mouth actually dropped open in shock, but he closed it with a snap before anyone could notice. Compliments into the flooded the air, as everyone wanted to praise Quentin for his new look.

Margo walked around Quentin and squeezed his face between her thumb and finger. “Our little Q is all grown up.” She laughed and kissed his cheek, after he playfully shoved her away a bashful smile on his face.

They hosted another meeting with the citizens and Quentin’s new look gave him a newfound air of confidence. He spoke up more often, offering advice that people responded well to. Those meetings were doing exactly what they were supposed to by gaining the people’s respect and trust. All was going well but they needed something that would turn the tide and cement them as the rulers of Fillory.

“Oh, I got it!” Fen shouted excitedly during one of their brainstorming sessions they decided to host in the gardens. “The Giggleberry Festival!”

Rafe clapped his hands and began writing in his notebook. “Yes! My grandparents told me stories of the festival and I’ve always wanted to attend one!”

“It would certainly help the people like us more.” Heloise snickered, while putting away her sword she was cleaning.

“Mind filling us in on whatever the hell a giggleberry is?” Eliot was laying on a blanket basking in the warm sun, with Margo and Quentin by his side sharing equally confused looks.

“There used to be a festival hosted by the Kings and Queens to celebrate the summer solstice. It was put to an end when Martin took over.” Calix informed the monarchs. He attended a festival when he was younger but could barely remember it.

Fen sketched out an image of an odd-looking orange and blue fruit shaped like a bowling pin. “Giggleberries, are a native fruit that has special properties that makes everyone feel relaxed and well…giggly.”

“I think the festival is mentioned in one of the books briefly.” Quentin stretched his hands over his head and grabbed a spare piece of parchment. “What do we need to do to bring it back?”

After setting a date, a few short weeks away on June 21st, they rushed about planning the festival to get everything ready in time. Carefully screening several acts, they chose a wide selection of talented groups to perform during the festival. Also, they gave permits to any artisan who wanted to sell their wares to the festival goers.

They decided that other than the private vendors, the food and entertainment would be provided by the monarchs and nothing was to be paid for by the citizens. It was partially an attempt to buy their affection, but also a way to show off that they could provide for their kingdom.

Invitations to the festival were sent out and the whole kingdom buzzed with excitement by the revival of the once beloved festival. Older citizens who still remembered the festivals were eager to see how the new monarchs would add their personal touch, and the younger citizens were just eager to attend.

in the days leading up the festival,Benedict led them to a large open field where the festival used to be held. The grounds were still in good shape and after cutting back some of the overgrown plants they were ready to go. Large tents were pitched with carefully placed cooling charms and wooden booths were constructed scattered around creating rows and lanes for people to walk down.

The day of the Giggleberry Festival quickly arrived. After High King Eliot opened with the ceremonial ribbon cutting, they welcomed everyone to enter the grounds. It was a beautiful summer day and people from all over Fillory came to enjoy themselves. This festival was loosely based on the county fair Eliot use to attend as a child in Indiana. There were tons of games and competitions with prizes to be won, horseback rides on some of the palace horses, and giggleberries were featured in nearly every food offered.

Eliot, Quentin, and Margo walked around greeting everyone and taking part in the fun along with everybody else. Thanks to the giggleberries special properties, everyone was relaxed and having the time of their lives. Children and adults alike were running around wanting to experience everything the festival had to offer.

Stopping at one of the booths, Quentin wanted to try a giggleberry ice-cream cone. He loved the curious flavor that was a combination of citrus and strawberry. In the summer heat it melted quickly so Quentin kept licking his to keep it from dripping everywhere. He was completely oblivious to the heated glances Eliot sent him.

Eliot watched mesmerized as Quentin’s pink tongue swiped over the sweet treat. He had to literally bite his own tongue to keep from moaning when Quentin sucked a finger into his mouth.

Margo nudged him, distracting him from the unintentionally erotic sight. “See something you like El?”

“Kindly fuck off Bambi.” Eliot tilted his head up and waved to a group of children playing a game of ring toss nearby.

“How long have you liked him?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Eliot sighed confessing his feelings aloud for the first time. “He’s never going to give us a shot.”

Margo smirked and said, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Eliot rolled his eyes at her and walked over to Quentin. The younger man held out his ice cream and offered Eliot a small taste. Margo watched amused as Quentin gazed at Eliot’s mouth just as intensely as Eliot had been. She snickered and wandered off with Heloise to go shopping, hoping to get a sword of her own.

Even as the sun started setting over the festival grounds, people were still in high spirits. Fairy lights were lit, adding an extra special element to the night. The smell of rich meats and roasted vegetables filled the air as dinner was being prepared for the hungry guests.

However, not everyone was happy with the festival and a group of drunk surly men began to kick up a fuss. Angrily they voiced their complaints about the festival loud enough for everyone to hear drawing attention to themselves.

The monarchs watched from a distance about to interject when another group of men and women stepped in. They tried to peacefully diffuse the situation, but it only irritated the men further.

“Are you actually giving into this sad attempt at bribery?” The ringleader slurred. “They are only trying to buy our respect and I’m sure as hell not falling for it.”

“I don’t know what they are trying to do but I do know for the first time in years my daughters are enjoying themselves and not afraid of the Beast attacking at any moment.” A tall woman with a baby strapped to her chest stepped up and confronted them. “They are acting their own damn age. I’m not going to let anyone take that away from them.” She threatened them and several people backed her up, shouting for the drunk men to leave.

Filled with embarrassment, they stumbled away from the fair grounds as cheers and applause were given to the courageous woman. The crowd dispersed soon after to get their last licks in before the closing ceremony.

As per tradition, the Giggleberry Festival ended with the ceremonial dance around a giant maypole topped with the Fillorian crest and hundreds of colorful ribbons tied to it. Everyone who wanted to grabbed hold of a ribbon did so and they danced in a circle to a traditional Fillorian melody, intertwining the strings into colorful knots.

It was just about midnight when the crowds turned to the skies where backgrounded by the moons, fireworks burst into the air. Fireworks hadn’t been invented in Fillory yet, but with a little pyrotechnic magic and natural dyes they made it work.

Everyone watched mesmerized by the dazzling display that would be talked about for years to come. After all their hard work and preparation, the festival would go down as the best one in the history.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 10/13/2019

“Okay where to next?” Eliot asked crossing out another town on his long list of places to visit. In an effort to get to know their kingdom better, they decided to journey into Fillory and give each town a personal visit.

Eliot, Rafe, and Fen had been traveling all day in one of the royal carriages going from village to village on the Northern side of Fillory. To cover more ground, the three monarchs took their S.A.F.E. ambassadors and brought them along to different parts of the kingdom, Quentin to the West and Margo covering the South.

After the roaring success of the Giggleberry Festival and the hundreds of people they were able to hire for the occasion, they were inspired with a new idea to help the people of Fillory. Similar to what Eliot had proposed during one of their council sessions, they decided to offer out small loans to their people to open up their own businesses. The visits would also allow them to have a better idea of what kind of jobs Fillory needed. Each new businesses venture would be registered into a ledger at the castle in order to keep track of all their investments. 

Fillorians were a proud people and would refuse any money handed to them regardless of their needs. This proposition gave them the ability to work for their money, as well as use their gifts and talents to help their fellow citizens.

They had started the process in their own castle, walking through the different areas and talking to their employees asking what departments needed more help or needed to be added. With the new funds, they’d be able to hire new employees, but only after a careful screening process. They weeded out the last of the FU fighters infiltrating the castle and weren’t about to let another one come close enough to attack again.

Additionally, Ace was actively trying to rework the tax system to make it fairer across the board. He based it loosely on the different systems around the world, creating one that would be tailor made for Fillory.

Eliot stared out the window at the miles and miles of enchanted forests passing by, wondering how he ended up High King of this beautiful land. He still had doubts about his abilities as a ruler because, let’s face it a recovering addict was no one’s first choice as king. Somehow whatever powers that made those decisions, chose him and it was up to him to live up that that. The more time he spent in Fillory, getting to know the people who lived there the less resentful he felt about being forced to spend the rest of his life there.  He could see why Quentin fell in love with a place like this and he was starting to as well.

“We are now entering the town of Ashbourne; it’s the biggest village on this side of the kingdom.” Rafe told the small group as he studied the map Benedict had created for them.

Eliot watched as the tries turned into small homes and the village ahead came into view. A bunch of children just milling around recognized the royal carriage and begun chasing after them. Coming to a stop at the town square, they stepped out of the carriage and tried to not let their dismay show on their faces.

For one of the main towns in Fillory, it was more like a crumpling neighborhood than a bustling city. Farm animals were running around the town leaving their droppings everywhere in the streets. All the buildings were collapsing to varying degrees and it appeared as though people had begun camping outside their homes once they no longer were suitable for living.

Even more children of all age where sitting idly in the dusty roads, some children too young to be on their own were following after their parents, but many more were alone. They were much too solemn for kids who should be running around playing and it was a distressing sight to see.

“Why aren’t the children in school?” Eliot asked glancing around at the dusty faces of the children.

“We never had any formal system of learning. Typically, only the wealthy can afford to hire scholars and tutors for their children.” Rafe explained in hushed tones. “Most of them are homeschooled, but how good of an education they receive depended on the educational levels of their parents.”

Fen nodded in agreement. “I was only educated because my family came from a long line of wealthy knifemakers and could afford the tutors. Plus, I was expected to be a member of the council, so it was prudent that I had a good education.”

“What about trades like blacksmithing or clothes making can’t they learn that?” Eliot read a few books of Fillorian history and knew that Fillorians were known for their skills in making highly refined products.

“Sure. Most families specialize in one trade or another, but with the downfall of the Kingdom most of them lost their shops.” Rafe clutched his clipboard to his chest. He was fortunate to have been born to a family that had a long history of working closely with the monarchs.

“Well that’s going to change real soon.” Eliot looked around once more his heart hurting for these people living in poverty. “I won’t allow my people to suffer like this if I can do something about it.”

Straightening his shoulders, he spent the afternoon talking with the townspeople asking about what skills and trades they specialized in. A large crowd had gathered around the King and his advisors, each proud to discuss what they could offer the kingdom. Bit by bit a renewed sense of hope passed throughout the village, all eager to restore the once prosperous city back to its former glory.

Eliot stood up stretching and decided to take a stroll around the village, when they heard the sound of angry shouting coming from down an alleyway. A wounded cry quickly followed after the sound of flesh hitting flesh and they cautiously made their way over to investigate. To their horror, they saw an older man with his hand raised ready to strike at a young boy cowering in front of him.

They quickly intervened, pushing the irate man away from the trembling child. “What are you doing?” Fen shouted angrily glaring at the man as she held the boy in protection. She looked at the child and placing a cloth to his bleeding nose.

The man snarled at them, his yellowing teeth flashing behind his unkempt beard. “What I do to my son is my own business. I don’t need your kind sticking your noses in places where it doesn’t belong.”

“As High King of Fillory, I think you’ll find it is my business.” Eliot glared at the man who reminded him of his own father.

“This boy is useless. We need him to help out in the shop but all he wants to do is lay about with his head in the clouds.” He spat at the ground and the boy flinched back, his face burning with shame. “Disgraceful.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to hit him. In fact, it is strictly forbidden to abuse any child as I’m sure you well know.” Rafe clenches his jaw and motioned to a few guards they brought with them for security. They arrest the protesting man and dragged him away kicking and screaming.

Eliot turned to the young boy who adverted his eyes from the tall King. Slowly as to not alarm the boy, he crouched down to his height. “Where’s your mother?” Eliot asked as gently as he could.

“Dead,” the young man answered emotionlessly. Fen gave a small whimper and hugged the boy closer.

“I’m very sorry for your loss.” Eliot sighed and gave the young boy a few coins to buy food for himself. “If you ever want to get away, come to the palace and we’ll find a place for you there.”

“Thank you, your highness. But I won’t leave my sisters alone.” The boy said in a small voice. He then bowed once and ran off out of sight.

“It’s despicable how some people treat their children.” Fen fumed and began pacing back and forth.

Rafe tried his best to appease the angry woman. “We’ll rework the laws to protect them better, now that we are aware of the problem.”

“This shouldn’t be happening in the first place!” She shouted angrily, her voice echoing around them. “There are people who would do anything to be a parent.” Fen stared off into the distance wrapping her arms around her stomach.

“Fen…um. Is there something you’d like to tell us?” Eliot placed an hand awkwardly on her shoulders, not quite sure what to do to comfort her.

Fen blew out a long breath and dropped her arms to her side. “It’s just…since I’m never going to marry a man, I’ve pretty much given up on becoming a mother. It’s fine and I’ve made my peace with it, but things like this it reminds me of all the things I can’t have.”

Rafe made a sympathetic sound drawing Fen into a hug. Eliot, on the other hand, stared at Fen with a confused expression. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand your dilemma. You know you can still have a child, you don’t need a man.” Fen and Rafe broke apart, confused expressions now on their faces instead. “Back on Earth plenty of lesbian couples and single mothers have kids they either adopt or go to a sperm bank for that extra special ingredient.”

“There are banks on Earth filled with sperm!?” Rafe exclaimed horrified, wondering how that would even work.

“What I’m trying to say,” Eliot moved on, no way was he explaining that to them. “If you want children, don’t let anyone stop you.”

Fen gave Eliot a watery smile. “I don’t want them now, I have way too much to do, but thank you My King.”

“You know you can call me Eliot, both of you can. This king stuff get’s old after a while.”

“As you wish…Eliot.” Rafe said hesitantly. His years of training were screaming at him for being so informal with the King.

Eliot rolled his eyes and ushered them away. “Come on, we have work to do.

* * *

Many miles away, a strange chopping sound came from the forest. Animals stopped in their tracks and tilted their heads trying to figure out what was interrupting the peace. “ARGH!” An angry growl from a surely violent and dangerous beast, filled the air sending the animals scattering. Flocks of birds flew from their nests filling the air and flying away from the danger. A flash of silver cut through the thick bushes and out came two exhausted woman panting for breath.

Heloise wiped the plant matter and dirt off her sword before sheathing it back in the scabbard on her hip. Margo, who had been following behind Heloise, cried out in dismay at her ruined outfit that was ripped, torn, and covered in mud. If she had a mirror, she would have seen that mud was smeared across her face and there were leaves and twinges tangled into her thick curls.

“Benedict said there would a small village of nomads living there!” She said angrily plucking the burrs off her pants.

“Are you sure he didn’t say small village of _mad gnomes_. The gnomes here in Fillory have a particularly strong hunger for human flesh.” Heloise pulled out the map Benedict had made them, and sure enough the village had been circled in red warning them not to venture there.

“You don’t say.” Margo held up her arm that was covered in scratches from the little bastards. “One of those things tried to take a chunk out of my arm.”

The villages in the south of Fillory were more scattered, due to the rougher terrain, and hidden away in the thick forests. The two women were only able to visit a few of them and made plans to head back over the next few days.

Stopping in Humbledrum & Honeyclaw's Pub, a place many Fillorians and talking animals liked to frequent, Margo and Heloise decided to get something to eat before visiting the next village.

The menu there was very eclectic, having to caterer to the different species. A talking goat took their order, and a short while later a human brought over their steaming hot food. They were minding their own business, trying to keep a low profile, when a fight broke out between two women.

Their loud screams gained the attention of all the pub’s guests who turned to watch the unfolding scene. “You always do this to me Cora!” One woman screamed pushing the other.

“He wasn’t good enough for you Marigold. I told you over and over and you wouldn’t listen.” Cora screamed back, her pale face turning bright red in her anger.

“Oh, so you slept with him just to prove that?!”

“Yes! See if he was all that great, he wouldn’t have slept with me.”

“I don’t know why I’m still friends with you!” Marigold screamed throwing her drink in Cora’s face. With an enraged scream, Cora took a fistful of her food and threw it at her friend. Within minutes chaos broke out as food begun flying through the air as everyone jumped into the action.

“Oh you have to be fucking kidding me.” A glob of mashed potatoes smashed against Margo’s chest was the final straw. All she wanted was a nice peacefully meal and no one was going to get in her way. With the determination of a stubborn dragon, Margo got up and stood up onto her chair. "Enough!!”

The crowd all froze in shock after recognizing their High Queen. “Your majesty.” Cora whispered mortified and bowed, as did everyone else in the pub.

“Okay here’s what’s going to happen. I’ve had a really long day, and this fucking mess is ridiculous. First of all, everyone who participated in this food fight will stay behind and help clean up this place.” She glared at them daring someone to argue with her. “Secondly, you two are going to stop this bullshit and make up. No man should ever come between your friendship. Lastly,” Margo stepped off the chair gracefully and walked up to Cora. “Do you want to tell your friend what’s really going on or shall I?”

Cora flushed bright red and ducked her head. Taking a deep breath, she turned to Marigold. “Mari, I’m sorry for ruining your relationship. It’s just no one is good enough for you.” Cora grabbed Marigold’s hand in hers as tears sprung into both woman’s eyes.

Marigold's eyes softened and she smiled at her friend. “Oh Cora, why didn’t you say something earlier.” Smirking mischievously, she pulled Cora into a tight embrace bringing their lips together in a heated kiss. When they finally ran out of air, the two women separated both with beaming smiles on their faces.

“My work here is done.” Margo clapped her hands together, went to the bar, and ordered a drink, sadly non-alcoholic.

“Well done your majesty.” The bear behind the counter applauded her as he watched the patrons begin to clean up the mess.

“Make love not war is what I always say.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. Reading his name tag stuck to his fur, she smiled at the bear. “Humbledrum, fine establishment you have here.”

“A fine compliment coming from someone such as yourself.” Humbledrum chuckled lowly, his gravelly voice rumbling in his chest. He pushed her drink toward her and leaned in close. “Is it true you and the Kings are going around listening to people’s complaints and trying to find more jobs for Fillory?”

She took a sip of the delicious and refreshing fruit drink. “Yes, it’s true.”

“Then I have a proposition for you. I’d like to branch out and open another establishment closer to the castle. If you could loan us the money, we would pay you back in no time.”

Margo considered it for a moment but couldn’t see the harm in offering the talking animals the same deal as humans. “If you can somehow find a way to bring alcohol to Fillory, you have yourself a deal.” Humbledrum reached out a paw and the two shook on the deal.

Heloise joined them at the counter and the three settled into a deep conversation with Humbledrum about the talking animals’ problems. The entire time Margo felt like a god damn Disney Queen surrounded by talking animals.

Soon after they get their fill of food and drink, on the house thanks to Humbledrum, they left the pub and walked the short distance to their carriage and headed back to the castle.

“Hey Heloise, how does the justice system work around here?” Margo asked curiously. If no one intervened between those two girls, she was sure all hell would have broken lose.

“Other than the guards at the palace, we are spread too thin to properly watch over the land. All of the villages pretty much self-govern themselves.”

“We’ll need to hire more guards and build up our armies in preparation for the war.”

“If I may, why are you so adamant about this war with Loria? I understand why you don’t want to marry him but why such a strong reaction?” Heloise had been trying to figure out the Queen’s motives behind the war, but she didn’t want to offend the Queen by asking her directly.

“He’s just another man who thinks he could get away with anything he wants because of his Daddy’s money.” Margo said crossing her legs her jaw clenched tightly. “I refuse to let myself be put in that situation…not again.” She trailed off, but kept her head held high as she looked into Heloise’s dark eyes.

Heloise nodded in understanding. She didn’t feel any pity toward her Queen, if anything it only further proved how strong of a woman Margo was. “There have been rumors that women who wander to close to the Lorian boarder sometimes go missing. We have sent several spies to try and recover them, but they were never heard from again. The King of Loria has denied any involvement, but he is blind to his son’s vile actions too busy with their own troubles. We will fight this war, for them and for anyone else put in that situation.” Margo nodded once and they continued on their journey in a comfortable silence.

* * *

Over on the West side of Fillory, Quentin and Calix had teamed up with Ace and Willow to cover the villages there. Ace and Willow were elected to focused more on the magical beings that resided in Fillory scattered throughout the forest.

The magical beings were more openly hostile towards humans, understandably after all the trauma they’ve been through with the Beast. This first attempt at contacting their tribes was to see if reconciliation could ever be a possibility.

While Ace and Willow went to talk to a group of nymphs in the woods, Quentin noticed that they were close to Chatwin’s Torrent. “Hey Calix, do you have twenty gold pieces on you?”

“Um probably why?” Calix still had his backpack from the quest and though it no longer magically filled with whatever they needed, it was still virtually bottomless and lightweight. He used it now to keep extra supplies with them at all times, especially medical equipment knowing how accident-prone Quentin was.

“There’s something I think I need to do.” Quentin commented vaguely leading them deeper into the woods.

The sound of rushing water was heard, and Quentin pushed back the branches and gazed upon the peaceful creek that they had visited when they first arrived at Fillory. Quentin called out for the River Watcher feeling ridiculous, but he was unsure of how to properly summon him.

“Back again?” The man appeared before them giving Quentin a searching look. “Is your arm troubling you?”

“Oh no I barely notice it.” Quentin laid a hand on his wooden arm that he had honestly forgotten all about. “I’m here to see you actually.”

“Really?” The river watcher eye’s widened in shock. Most people who visit this area only wanted to use the Torrent.

Quentin stepped forward and handed the man a small pouch filled with gold. Inside was the amount of gold he wanted when they came in the first place to heal Penny’s hands. The River Watcher stared dumbfounded at the pouch in is hand. “Why are you giving me this?” The watcher asked warily.

“Isn’t that how much you wanted? I could come back and give you more…” Quentin didn’t want to further anger the man. He saw how strong the curse the man placed on Penny was.

“No why are _you_ giving me the money. It was your friend who needed the river’s healing.”

Quentin merely shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s the right thing to do, you helped us out with the river when we needed it.”

The Watcher’s eyes darted between the two men trying to figure out their ulterior motive. “I’m not going to fix your friends hands.”

“That’s fine, he was a dick and kinda deserved it.”

“You’re an interesting one.” He pocketed the pouch of gold and stared perplexed at the young King. The Watcher remembered everyone who had ever visited Chatwin’s Torrent and Quentin barely crossed his mind other than being slightly whiny. Clearly much had changed since then.

“Is that a good thing or a bad?”

“It is how you see it.” The watcher responded mysteriously making a mental note to keep tabs on the young man. “Good day.”

They turned and leisurely walked along the river’s edge in no rush to head back. Calix spotted a small group of large rocks at the edge of the water and sat down. It was another beautiful day in Fillory, but they couldn’t truly enjoy it.

Much like the other groups, Quentin found that things were far worse than they were led to believe. It was going to take a lot more to fix the kingdom, but he was determined.

Calix turned to Quentin handing him his water pouch. “Are you aware there are rumors going around the castle of you and Eliot’s relationship?”

Quentin brought up the water to his lips then choked on the water. “What?!” He sputtered, water drippling down his chin.

“I’m taking it by your shocked expression they aren’t true…not yet at least.” Calix handed Quentin a handkerchief to wipe his face.

“What do you mean yet? Eliot doesn’t—we couldn’t.”

“I’m not hearing that you don’t want to.” Calix nudged the king teasing the man. He had seen the way the two men had interacted, there was no way nothing was going on between them.

“Even if that was true…and I’m not saying it is. It’s too soon after Alice.” Quentin pushed himself off the rock and bent down picking up a handful of stones, tossing them into the water one by one.

“How long will it be acceptable then? Six months? A year? More?” Calix probed.

Quentin chucked the rocks into the river as hard as he could. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll never know Q, because there isn’t ever a right time. I don’t want to presume because I unfortunately never got the chance to meet Queen Alice, but I’m assuming she wouldn’t want you to grieve and be alone forever.”

Quentin stood with his back turned and thought about what Calix had told him. He wasn’t as oblivious as most people thought. He knew something going on between Eliot and him, but Quentin hadn’t let himself think about it. There was far too much to do and his own wants had to be pushed aside. Right?

“It doesn’t matter because I doubt that he even likes me as more than just a really good friend.” Quentin stubbornly insisted.

“What are we talking about?” Ace asked stepping out of the forest and sitting next to Calix on the rocks. Willow stepped into the river allowing the cool water to rush over her feet.

Calix laughed and replied, “Quentin and Eliot’s budding relationship.”

“Calix!” Quentin splashed the older man with water.

“I have 50 bucks on them getting together by August.” Calix admitted sheepishly.

Quentin’s jaw dropped. “There’s a betting pool??” He couldn’t understand why people would be so interested in his love life, or rather lack thereof.

“Of course there is! I bet you two wouldn’t get together until next year.” Ace said laughing at Quentin’s annoyed expression. “Although, Fillorians bet with strange things, someone offered up his goat if they got together during December.”

Willow cocked her head to the side turning toward the tittering men. “Oh, I thought you two were already together. Is it too late for me to put in my bet?”

“Okay moving on!” Quentin shouted over the loud laughter coming from Calix and Ace. “How did it go with the nymphs?”

Willow and Ace gave each other a strange look before Willow stated, “It wasn’t horrible, but if it’s alright I’d rather discuss it further when everyone is present.”

Quentin checked his watch. “Well its about time to head back anyway. I wonder what everyone else found out.”

* * *

“This country is one giant clusterfuck and that’s putting it gently.” Margo stated once everyone arrived back in their office.

“No kidding.” Quentin said flopping down onto one of the couches tiredly. “Where do we even begin?”

Eliot took a seat on the couch next to Quentin throwing an arm behind the younger man. “Well this might come as a shock to no one, but we need a better education system…well in this instance it’s more like we need one as even America’s doing better than we are.” He jokingly shuddered. He rose an eyebrow at Ace and Calix who were snickering behind their hands and then at Quentin whose cheeks were flushed pink. What he said wasn’t that funny.

“Because they aren’t in school, woman haven’t been able to go and get jobs themselves because they are expected to stay home, watch the kids, and take care of the house,” Fen said. Her back was turned on the group as she erased a part of the blackboard and begun writing a new list.

“Oh hell no, fuck that. Let’s get those little shits into school.” Margo declared. She hated school growing up, but at least she had someplace to go that wasn’t home for a few hours a day. Every child should have the right to an education, and they were going to provide that to them.

“I agree, but what’s the best way to ensure they are all receiving the same education?” Quentin fidgeted in his seat sliding his leg until it was pressed against Eliot’s.

Heloise spoke up and suggested something she thought would help a few of their problems at once. “We could build an institute where the children could go to learn.”

“Yes! If we get sponsors from some of the prominent citizens with children, it would help with funding and getting the support of other parents.” Calix sat up, thinking of his son. “We could invite all the children from Fillory, and it would be a safe place for them to learn and meet other children their own age from all over Fillory.”

“Brilliant! What else?” Fen said, writing the word ‘school’ onto one of the blackboards.

“The talking animals are surprisingly in support of us, I talked with a bear…that’s right a BEAR.” Margo emphasized seeing Quentin and Eliot’s surprised looks. “His name is Humbledrum and he said he could help us if we help him open a new pub in Fillory.”  

The Fillorians turned to Margo and stared at her in shock. “What?”

“Didn’t you tell her?” Rafe whispered excitedly scribbling madly onto a piece of parchment.

“No, she was doing so well I didn’t want to freak her out.” Heloise chimed in with a smug look on her face.

“Tell me what?” Margo commanded.

“Humbledrum is a very respected member of the talking animal community,” Rafe told her. “To gain his respect is a huge step forward in our goals.”

“Perhaps they can help us with another problem.” Willow sat on the floor; her fish Pisces was floating in his water bubble around her. “The magical beings aren’t all that thrilled to have yet another group of humans ruling them. Although they were intrigued by the fact that we were part of the S.A.F.E., the first non-humans to earn that honor.”

Ace took over the explanation. “They are willing to give us a chance, but only if we represent them.” He pointed to himself and Willow.

“You guys will have to keep talking to them. Maybe we should hold a council session just for them,” Quentin suggested thoughtfully.

Eliot smiled warmly at Quentin. “Great, yes we have a shit ton of new problems, but it sounds like building a school and continuing to start up new businesses will help push Fillory in the right direction.”

Over the next several days, they focused their attention on drafting the preliminary outlines for a new school in Fillory. The castle architects were putting together some blueprints for the building. Fen had quickly volunteered to head the project and went off to her hometown to speak with her tutors about what a good curriculum would be for the students.

A day ago, Calix had rushed out of their meeting having to go home for a family emergency. He had just returned and was running through the castle carrying his crying son in his arms. “Buddy please, I can’t help you if you don’t use your words.” He gently wiped the tears from the boy’s face, trying to figure out what was wrong.

“I forgot my bear at grandma’s,” Thaddeus cried inconsolable. That bear was something his wife had made their son before she died, and Thaddeus took it everywhere with him.

“Who’s this?” Quentin asked gently coming to a stop next to them. He and Eliot were taking a stroll around the castle when they heard the cries of the young boy.

Thaddeus hid his face in his father’s neck shyly sneaking peeks at the two men. “This is Thaddeus, my son. Love this is King Eliot and King Quentin what do you say?” Calix prompted his son.

“Hi.” Thaddeus whispered softly giving them a little wave.

“He normally stays with his grandparent’s during the day, but they have been sick and can’t take care of him right now.” Calix explained while he rubbed his son’s back.

“It’s fine he can stay at the castle whenever he wants.” Eliot waved his hand not seeing the problem.

“Really? Kids aren’t generally allowed in the castle.”

“What? That’s ridiculous.” Quentin stated outraged already falling for the sweet little boy. “Send word to all the workers that they can bring their families here, with the school we are building they’ll be close by anyway.”

“That’s very helpful. Actually, I’d hate to ask but would you mind watching him for a few hours.” Calix trusted them to watch his son. “I need to go back and check on my parents and get his teddy bear.”

“Of course!” Quentin said ignoring Eliot’s panicked look. Eliot wasn’t used to hanging around small children and wasn’t sure he would be able to help much.

“What do you think Teddy? Want to hang out with the Kings?” Calix asked his son gently.

Thaddeus eyed the two men carefully before nodding and said, “Okay.”

Quentin reached out and plucked the young boy from his father’s arms. His dark curls tickled Quentin’s face as he studied Eliot curiously.

“Thank you so much, I wouldn’t be asking if I had any other choice. I’ll be back in a few hours, be good Thaddeus.” He kissed his son’s head and rushed off down the hall.

Quentin bounced the boy in his arms causing him to giggle softly. “So, what do you want to do Teddy?”

* * *

“Attack!!” Thaddeus cried out swinging his wooden sword around in the air. All signs of the shy boy disappearing as he grew comfortable with the two men.

“ROAR!” Eliot bellowed chasing after the four-year-old boy.

They were playing knights and dragons with Eliot pretending to be the dragon. They commandeered the ballroom for the day and pilled a fort of pillows and blankets in the corner. Palace workers had been in and out drawn in by the noise and watched the endearing sight of their Kings playing with the young boy.

Thaddeus attempted to jab his sword into Eliot’s side to ' _slay the dragon_.' They charmed the sword so it wouldn’t cause any damage no matter how hard he swung it. Eliot easily side stepped the attack and reached for Thaddeus tickling him mercilessly. “Tintin help me!!” He called out in between peals of laughter.

The little boy couldn’t quite pronounce Quentin’s name and created his own nickname for the man. Quentin charged forward and tackled Eliot, giving Thaddeus time to get away.

Quentin followed after Thaddeus as he crawled into their makeshift fort. “He’s one sneaky dragon.” Teddy said and Quentin had to bite his lips to keep from laughing.

“What’s the plan General?” Quentin asked.

“We lure him away with cookies!”

Quentin arched an amused eyebrow at the boy. “Cookies huh?”

Teddy nodded his head his dark curls bouncing against his forehead, so similar to Eliot’s curls. “Dragons can’t resist cookies.”

Quentin wasn’t too sure about that fact, but he knew that he sure couldn’t resist Thaddeus and agreed to go hunt for cookies. They snuck out of the fort, but Eliot was nowhere to be seen. “The coast is clear!”

Teddy took hold of Quentin’s hand and together they walked out into the hallway toward the kitchens. Teddy easily charmed the entire kitchen staff and soon was rewarded with a warm plate of cookies and a glass of milk.

After his snack, Teddy soon became very tired and Quentin picked him up, thanking the cooks, and carried the sleepy boy out. Thaddeus was fast asleep before they reached the ballroom. Quentin placed him on the pile of pillows and tucked a blanket around him gently.

He stood up and was watching the peaceful boy when a pair of arms wrapped around him. He turned around and saw that Eliot had returned. “Where did you go?”

“There was a small issue with one of the prisoners, but it’s resolved now.” Eliot brushed away some cookie crumbs on Quentin’s shirt.

“You’re good with him.” Quentin said motioning to the sleeping boy.

“Eh, I’ve been just following your example.”

“We’re a pretty good team then.”

Eliot reached over adjusting Quentin’s collar that got rumpled in their game of pretend stepping closer to the shorter man. “Yeah, we sure are.” Eliot stared into Quentin’s beautiful brown eyes then flickered down to his lips.

Quentin wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but when their lips pressed together for the first time his mind went blank. Sure, they had kissed before after that disaster with the emotion bottles, but Quentin didn’t count that as he could barely remember the night. This kiss however, he considered their first and it was everything he had secretly imagined it would be.

Quentin suddenly started to panic and broke away. “Eliot I can’t.”

“Sorry, I must have misread the situation.” Eliot turned his head to hide his hurt expression. Quentin’s heart ached knowing he was the cause of that hurt and he couldn’t help but grab hold of Eliot’s hands.

“You didn’t, I-I do like you.” Quentin reassured Eliot.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Quentin bit his lips and looked down. Eliot placed a finger under his chin and pushed his head up looking deeply into Quentin’s eyes. “Q, please talk to me,” Eliot pleaded.

“I don’t want you to regret me.” Quentin blurted out gripping onto Eliot’s arms as though the man would try to run away. “I don’t want you to realize somewhere down the line that I’m not enough for you.”

“Why would you even think that?”

“Come on El, you are like the king of parties and I’m just the loser in the background. You can have and have had anyone you want. I can’t compete with that.”

“Listen to me Quentin,” Eliot placed his palm on the side of Quentin’s face. “There is no competition. I don’t want anyone else but you. Do you remember that orgy I had while you were on your quest?”

“Not helping your argument El…” Quentin groaned closing his eyes.

“Let me finish…” Eliot chuckled softly. “The truth is I spent the whole time missing you, I couldn’t enjoy it. I haven’t slept with anyone since then.”

“El…”

Eliot stepped closer and pressed his forehead against Quentin’s. “Please Q, just one chance. That’s all I’m asking for.”

Quentin closed the small gap between them and pressed his lips to Eliot’s once more. “We need to go slow.”

“Of course, Q.” Eliot knew that Quentin would need time and was prepared to go as slow as he needed.

“One chance.” Quentin agreed softly. An exhilarated smile spread across Eliot’s face and he pulled Quentin into another sweet kiss. Their lips pressed together moving slow and unhurried, simply relishing in the fact that their feelings for each other were returned.

“AH!! That dragon got you!! I’ll save you!” Thaddeus had woken up and was ready to play again. Eliot smiled against his lips and after one last peck they turned to Teddy.

“But who is going to save you?!” Eliot scooped him up, throwing him over his shoulder and ran off. The shrieking child giggling madly and screaming for Quentin.

Quentin smiled and he stared after them before running down the hallway after them. He had a feeling just one chance was all they would need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeep!! They finally kissed!!!! Even though I'm the one writing this, I still got super excited when they did. I'm lame i know! Hope you all enjoyed this!! :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried uploading this last night but I noticed when i woke up it only saved without posting. Oh well! Better late then never.
> 
> Edited: 10/19/2019

Ever since his and Eliot’s first kiss a week ago, Quentin couldn’t stop smiling. He was the happiest he’d been in a long time and still couldn’t believe they were actually together. True to his word, Eliot had been taking things slow between them and the two had only shared a few short kisses since. Whenever the older man walked into the room, Quentin’s eyes automatically sought out Eliot’s. The mesmerizing smile Eliot always gave him, sent a wave of warmth shooting down Quentin’s spine.

Word rapidly spread throughout the castle of their new relationship. Whenever Quentin walked by, he received knowing glances from the palace workers who were thrilled for their Kings. No one formally announced who won the betting pool, but every so often the bleating of a goat that had been offered up could be heard coming from somewhere inside the castle.

Having just finished a private breakfast with Eliot out on the north wing balcony, Quentin took a leisurely stroll through the castle. “Quentin!” A voice called out behind him.

Turning, Quentin saw Margo marching down the hallway toward him; her heels clacking against the stone floor. He inwardly groaned wondering what he’d done to earn her wrath. The hallway was suspiciously empty, and Quentin found himself wishing he was back with Eliot.

“So, you and El huh?” Margo teased laughing when Quentin blushed. “I’m happy for you guys, it took you long enough yank your heads out of your asses.”

“Yeah well… I’m one lucky guy.” Margo was Eliot’s best friend and so it meant a lot to Quentin that they had her approval.

“I love you Q, but I loved Eliot first. That being said...” She shoved him harshly against the rough stone wall and wrapped her fist around his shirt collar. “If you hurt him, not even the gods will be able to find all the tiny Quentin pieces I will scatter around Fillory. You understand me?”

“Y-yes.” Quentin’s voice cracked. “I got it Margo, loud and clear.”

“Perfect.” Margo leaned in and kissed Quentin’s cheek. Looping her arm around Quentin’s, the two monarchs continue their way down the hall. “Where is your other half? And how come you guys aren’t having wild sex right now?”

Quentin sputtered choking on nothing. “Margo! We’re taking it slow okay.”

“Slow? Damn, he must really be into you.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual.” Quentin said with a small pleased smile on his lips. “Besides, El isn’t here anymore. He and Willow are visiting the farms to make sure the plant growth isn’t being affected by all the power outages we’ve been having lately.”

The magical blackouts had increased to multiple times a day, sometimes lasting as long as an hour. Many of their defensive charms around the castle had started to crumble. Only the original wards created with ancient magic were stable, but they would do nothing to protect them from major attacks. Their efforts to increase the number of guards had doubled since they could no longer depend on magic to defend them forever.

It was a race against the clock to try and figure out ways to sustain their ecosystem and economies without the magic that intertwined with just about every aspect of Fillory. Therefore, now more than ever, it was critical to keep a close eye on their main food supply for the near future.

“Your Majesty and High Councilwoman, welcome.” A farmer named Lysander bowed respectfully. He had been chosen to give a grand tour of the land to their prestigious guests.

“How’s everything going here? Any setbacks from the magical blackouts?” Eliot asked staring around the acres of land they dedicated to this new agricultural venture.

“I’m proud to say we are on track for the harvest in the fall despite the magical imbalance. We got all the crops planted ahead of schedule and now it’s just a matter of allowing them to grow naturally.” Lysander had been one of the volunteers to try the new way of growing crops and quickly took to it eventually working his way up to head farmer. “Since you introduced fertilizer to Fillory, King Eliot, we no longer have to depend on the plants solely drawing nutrients from the ambient magic that flowed through the ground.”

“Excellent! Well done.” Eliot was in a particularly good mood thanks to a certain floppy haired magician and this only added to his jollity.

Willow was impressed by the health of the plants and pleased that there were no chemicals were being used. Back on Earth, plants were drenched in the hazardous pesticides those humans poured onto their food. “How much food will the harvest provide?”

“Between our seven farms, I’d say we have enough food to last at least another year. Of course, that’s if we ration it all carefully.”

Studying the leaves of the plants nearby, Willow drew on her skills as a dryad and tapped into their life force. The two men watched curiously as she stood up abruptly and buried her hands into the dirt chanting quietly to herself. Several blobs of murky water rose up around them, which she then directed into a large wheelbarrow.

The small bit of magic exhausted her, and Eliot helped her to her feet allowing her to lean heavily against him. “If you take a few drops of the water and add it to the soil every couple of feet, it will help double your harvest. I collected a few samples of a rhizobacteria which will colonize and promote your plant growth naturally.” Lysander graciously thank her and set off in search of the others to help get started on the task.

“You’re dead on your feet,” Eliot remarked studying her pale complexion and her wilted and limp looking hair. “Let’s get you back to the castle.”

Willow shook her head gently. “No, take me to my trees.”

Eliot agreed and carefully led them back to the carriage keeping one arm wrapped around Willow. When they arrived at the carriage, Eliot handed Willow his water canteen which she drank down swiftly bringing a little color back to her ashen face.

After a tense ride, they finally pulled to a stop at Willow’s small piece of land where her beloved trees resided. The moment Willow stepped foot onto her land, the natural magic that bonded the dryad to her trees kicked in and she felt rejuvenated.

Stepping into the small glade it felt like they entered a whole new world. It was quiet and peaceful, like they had frozen time unaware of the worries from outside. Long willow tree branches swayed gently in the wind and gently caressed the surface of the pond that helped nurture the young saplings. Together, they sat down near water’s edge and Pisces jumped out of his pond upon seeing them. Willow tossed him a few pellets of food which he gobbled up hungrily.

Eliot noticed that the trees had grown at least three feet since they were first planted five months ago. “They like it here.” She patted the roots of one of the three willow trees, pleased with their growth.

“I’m glad something good came out of that quest Bacchus sent Q on.” Eliot was still slightly pissed about the mad hunt the god had tricked Quentin into.

“He spoke a lot about you during that time.” Willow watched as Eliot’s face developed a fond look as he thought of his boyfriend. “He said that you were going to be a great King. Quentin has a rare sense of loyalty which a treasure all on its own.”

“That’s Q for you, always seeing the best in people.”

“I think he was wrong.” She said her face blank.

Eliot’s face dropped in disappointment briefly before he plastered on a look of indifference. “Oh.”

“I don’t think you’ll make a great King…I think you’ll make an outstanding one.” Willow laughed when Eliot’s jaw dropped and stared at her in disbelief. He rolled his eyes and his low chuckle added to the mix.

“I can see why Q liked you so much,” he humbly admitted.

Willow reached out and squeezed Eliot’s hand. “Let’s head back. I’m feeling much better now and I think Rafe wanted to speak with us all before lunch.”

Back in the offices Rafe began an informal meeting standing in front of the monarchs and the S.A.F.E. members while they lounged on the sofas in the room. He was holding Abigail in his arms because she had been uncharacteristically clingy the whole day, refusing to stay in her tree. Rafe couldn’t get her to answer why she was feeling so anxious but didn’t want to pry further and cause her more distress.

“The invitations to come join our school in two months’ time have been sent to families all across Fillory.” Rafe stated a wide smile on his face. “Many children, of all ages, have accepted!”

Calix snickered thinking of his son and said, “Thaddeus cannot wait to start school. He keeps asking me if it’s September yet.”

In preparation for the upcoming school year, they had hired the best scholars throughout the land to teach the young students. Since it was so new, the first year would be heavily focused on bridging the gap between the homeschool students’ varying degrees of knowledge. Afterward they would introduce more complex and challenging topics of both Fillorian knowledge and Earth.

“This is going to be amazing! All the students making friends and learning together. I wish I had something like this growing up.” Fen thought wistfully. Growing up the youngest in her village she didn’t have many friends as a child, but she was more than making up for that now.

 

“Actually Fen, we were wondering if you’d like to be in charge of the school.” Eliot was sitting across from her with Quentin tucked into his side.

Fen’s jaw dropped and she stared at him in disbelief. “What me?! Why? I couldn’t— I’m not qualified for that!”

“Why the hell not!” Ace nudged her shoulders. “You were amazing when you taught us about Fillory, and you are so good with all the kids in the villages we visit.” He knew that she would be perfect for the role and was the one who originally nominated her for the position.

“Okay I guess, oh Ember’s balls, I can’t believe this is happening!” She shouted excitedly her mind racing with even more ideas on how to improve the school.

“There are a lot of future prospective students that show great promise.” Rafe mentioned handing the roster over to Fen. Many parents signed their children up immediately because they were eager for their children to have better lives. Being taught at the Royal Academy of Fillory, the official name of the institute, would give them a great start in life.

“Does anyone else have anything else to add?” Margo was shocked by how quickly they were able to put together the school but pleased with their progress thus far.

Ace stood up and took Rafe’s spot before them. “The number of people being employed by the new jobs we are creating has increased by 56% and the economy is on the rise.” He took out his notebook listing all the loans that had been given out. Passing it around, he explained that he had set up a payment plan that had a low interest rate that would appeal to those looking to start a new business.

“If we follow this plan, how long will it take for our economy to bounce back?” Heloise had done some research on her own on financial planning, as far as she could tell Ace’s plans were solid.

“If we continue to grow at the same rate, we should be back within the next five to ten years or so.”

The meeting ended soon after that, the group split into smaller circles to discuss different topics. Rafe and Fen pulled Quentin and Margo aside to ask if there was anything from Earth that needed to be taught right away.

Eliot was going to join them when Calix and Ace asked to speak to him privately. He was on guard but agreed and the three moved to the other side of the room. “What’s up?” Eliot asked warily.

“Calix would like to tell you something.” Ace spoke up first, nudging Calix in front of him.

Throwing Ace a look of betrayal, he turned to the King and said, “When you hired me, you told me to do whatever it takes to protect Quentin from harm.”

“Right, that hasn’t changed.” Eliot couldn’t see where he was going with this conversation.

“Well Sire, I still take that vow seriously and I will protect him from _all_ harm.”

Ace could see that Eliot still didn’t understand and he was tired of Calix skirting around the topic. “What Cal’s trying to say is you hurt Quentin, King or not we will break you.”

“I see.” Eliot couldn’t believe he was receiving a shovel talk, but thought it was probably best coming from them than having to hear it from Quentin’s father.

“Is everything okay?” Quentin had snuck up behind them while they were in the middle of their conversation.

“Of course, we were only asking Eliot here if he needed us to go pick up condoms for him from Earth.” Ace couldn’t help but tease the two men. 

However, it backfired when Eliot replied, “Actually, that would be great.” He winked at Ace wrapping an arm around Quentin’s shoulders. “The biggest box they have. Thanks.” He steered the stuttering man out of the room leaving behind the laughing men.

Walking down the hall, Eliot took a sharp left and pulled them into a dark alcove. Pushing Quentin against the wall, Eliot leaned down and kissed his lips gently. “I’ve missed you,” he said deepening the kiss.

Quentin smiled and laughed. “We literally just saw each other El.”

“It’s not the same. We weren’t alone then, and I couldn’t do this in front of them.” Eliot kissed down Quentin’s neck nibbling a mark onto a particularly sensitive spot, satisfied when Quentin moaned lowly. “Unless you’re into that, then we can always go back and give them a show.”

“Shut up and kiss me you idiot.” Quentin ran his hand through Eliot’s dark curls and pulled his head closer, making out with his boyfriend passionately.

The two men pressed closely together as their kissing heated up. Feeling brave, Quentin ground his hips into Eliot’s causing the older man to groan. Eliot swiped a tongue against Quentin’s lips, asking for permission to enter. Quentin’s only response was to open his mouth slightly and Eliot loved the taste of something that was uniquely Quentin flavored.

Eliot had slipped a hand under Quentin's shirt trailing his fingers on the warm skin when suddenly, sirens began blaring through the castle. Their forehead smashed together as the loud noise caused them to jump toward each other. The piercing sound sent chills down their spine and reminded Quentin of the sirens used during World War II to warn of air raids.

Adjusting their clothes, they raced through the castle following some guards who were running toward the armory. Every worker they passed stood frozen in shock, some rushing toward the windows to see what was going on.

Those emergency alarms hadn't been utilized since they were installed by Rupert Chatwin, so the abrupt alert put the entire castle on edge. Heloise came careening down the hall and caught up with the two Kings screaming, “Fillory is under attack!”

Heloise led the two men outside toward the stables. There, Margo and the rest of the S.A.F.E. where already saddled on their horses. Hopping on their own horses, the group of around fifty raced toward the village under attack. Adrenaline coursed through their veins as they pushed the horses as fast as they could go. Great pillars of black smoke could be seen towering over the trees ahead.

A scene straight out of a hellish nightmare met them when they arrived at the village. Flames swept across the town, engulfing everything in its pathway leaving behind nothing but destruction. Buildings collapsed around them in burning timbers. A thick layer of soot filled the air causing the rescue team to start coughing as the ash clung to the walls of their lungs. Screams of terror and pain rang throughout from victims they couldn't see through the walls of fire and smoke.

Quentin could feel the intense heat rising from where he stood horror struck. His heart dropped to his stomach when the orange flames turned blue, his vision playing tricks on him. He tried to take deep breaths, but it felt like he wasn't getting enough oxygen into his lungs. Quentin's breathing accelerated until he was hyperventilating, and a phantom vice wrapped around his chest.

Muscles trembled as the blue flames took up his field of vision and Quentin forget where he was, trapped in memories of the past. Angry ghosts glared at him through the flames, their demonic eyes burning with hate. They closed in on him and rushed toward him causing him to jump back and fall to the ground. One ashy hand gripped his throat, which felt like it was being vacuum shut.

Initially, Eliot had run off the moment they entered the village but when he turned back, he saw Quentin in the midst of a panic attack. Cursing at himself for forgetting Quentin's fear of fire brought on by Alice's death, Eliot rushed over to the younger man.

Kneeling next to Quentin Eliot placed his hands on either side of his boyfriend's face. “Hey hey hey. Q, it’s okay.” He said soothingly, his heart breaking as he stared into Quentin's glazed over eyes. “These aren’t the same flames.”

Quentin could hear Eliot speaking to him, but it was like listening to his voice coming from underwater. Reaching up, he held onto Eliot's arms trying to anchor himself back into reality.

“Just breathe for me Q. Please.” Eliot was getting desperate for Quentin to snap out his attack but tried not to show it. The flames were getting more intense and they needed to go and help put out the fires. Over the chaos, people in the background were shouting out spells that would blast jets of water at the fires in an attempt to put them out.

Eventually, Quentin’s visions vanished, and his breathing evened out as he sucked in the much-needed oxygen. He pulled himself together, and though still woozy, he got up and together the two men turned to the nearest burning building.

Standing face to face, the two magicians pressed their middle three fingers together then twisted their bodies to the right while performing popper number seventeen. Jets of water rush out of their hands dousing the small part of the roaring flames. Their combination spell created a powerful column of water that was used by firefighting magicians on Earth. One house down, they turned to the next and so on.

Nearly an hour later they managed to put out half of the burning inferno, when magic sputtered out and the jets of water fell to the floor. “FUCK!” Eliot cried out. The flames reignited and quickly engulfed the areas they had just finished putting out.

Frantically looking around, Quentin noticed a pile of buckets next to a burning house. Getting as close as he could to the flames, he reached out and foolishly grabbed the handle of the scorching metal bucket. With a pained yelp he quickly dropped the bucket cursing loudly. Burn blisters broke out across his hands, but he waved off Eliot’s cry of alarm. They didn't have time to worry about his injury.

Thinking fast, he kicked the side of the buckets and rolled them toward the river that was about twenty feet away. Once they were cooled down enough to handle, Quentin called the attention go the others and the team worked to find other buckets. Together, they took each bucket of water and created an assembly line throwing water on the flames as fast as they could without the help of magic.

Margo was holding onto a bucketful of water when she heard a cry of agony coming from inside one of the houses. Acting on instinct she dropped the bucket to the ground, pulled off the scarf around her neck, and dipped it into the water. Covering her mouth with the damp fabric she rushed into the fiery building.

Blackened walls still aflame surrounded her and through the thick smoke she could just about make out a human figure. Carefully moving through what remained of the small house, Margo tried to find the person in distress.

Out of nowhere, a burnt hand clamped down around her ankle. Margo screamed loudly and nearly fell into the burning wall before she steadied herself. Looking down she saw a woman burning alive, half of her face was already burnt beyond recognition.

Margo pulled her out of the building and poured whatever water remained in the bucket over the woman trying to douse the flames still licking at the poor woman’s skin. The woman was screaming in agony and Margo could only hope that if they put out the fire now, the rest could be healed when magic came back.

Internally Margo was, to put lightly, majorly freaking the fuck out but she tried to remain calm. “We’re here now! We are going to help you!” She cried out, trying to reassure the woman.

She tried casting a healing spell hoping for the magic to be back, but it didn’t work. She kept trying over and over until finally she was able to start the healing process. Her knowledge and abilities on healing spells were elementary, but it was enough to ward of any infections that could get into the open wounds.

“M-My baby...where?” The woman asked looking around frantically trying to get up despite her tremendous pain. She looked behind her to the house Margo had just pulled her from. An inhuman wail of despair crawled out of her throat, as she tried to get to what was left of her home.

All the thrashing about had opened up the wounds further and blood dripped down the woman’s skin mixing with the sweat and dirt that covered her body. Margo tried to push her back down to continue the healing, but she was inconsolable. It didn’t even matter though, the spells while aptly done, had barely made a minute degree of difference.

“Not them.” The woman said frantically as she gripped Margo's wrist tightly tears streaming down her eyes.

Margo had to lean in close to hear the woman’s words but didn’t understand what she was trying to say. Thinking perhaps she was referring to her family Margo said, “I'm sorry I didn't see anyone else in your house.” Margo fought back a wave of nausea when she remembered seeing a crib the corner of the house.

She shook her head desperately pleading with Margo to understand her. “No. N-not them!!!” With one final pained gasp the woman fell backwards her eyes wide and unseeing.

Even in her death, the woman’s grip was tight around Margo’s wrist and she had to pry the hand off. Burn fingers snapped off with a sickening crunch and fell to the floor next to her. Margo clamped a hand against her mouth and hurried to the bushes, where she threw up everything in her stomach. She allowed herself to grieve for a few minutes before she pulled herself together, the crisis wasn’t over yet.

It was late in the day, when the fire was completely put out, but the charred remains of the village were still smoking. Everywhere you looked were scorched black piles of timbers where homes once were, and bodies burnt beyond recognition. The air was thick with grief and an eerily silence draped over the town that was once bursting with life.

“OVER HERE!” A voice cried out in the gloom.

Racing toward the voice, Margo was shocked to find under a pile of rubble, a small girl was trapped somehow still alive. Everyone rushed into action, trying to lift each heavy stone off of the victim who was mercifully out cold. Eliot and Quentin stood beside Margo and lifted a heavy slate of rock off the girl’s legs while Margo gently reached under and carried her to safety.

Cradling the child in her lap they notice right away how her legs were bent in an awkward direction clearly broken. The rest of her body appeared somewhat unharmed but small cuts and burns covered every visible surface of skin. Quentin cast a quick diagnostic spell and noted that she also had a severe concussion and a few broken ribs.

The girl woke up slowly and whimpered in pain, burying her face into Margo’s shoulder. They were able to find out her name was Naomi, but soon realized she couldn’t remember anything that had happened. However, before they could find out more, she passed out blood dripping from her ears and started to seize. Margo took charge and carried her onto her horse and set off toward the castle. She forced the doors open with her magic and rode through the halls until she reached the infirmary. Margo refused to have anyone else die in her arms. A slew of healers took hold of Naomi and whisked her away leaving behind the shell-shocked Queen.

“What the fuck happened yesterday?” Margo strode into the offices slamming the door shut. She had spent the entire night in the infirmary watching over Naomi. It was touch and go for a long time, but for now it seemed that the girl was stable.

“We aren’t sure, but we do know that it wasn’t an accident.” Rafe reported solemnly. “The fires spread too quickly for our men to do anything. Three hundred people lived in that village, only fifteen survived.”

“Actually, only one did. The burn victims we found still alive, all died within the last hour.” Margo had been there watching as the healers exhausted themselves working in vain to keep everyone alive. In the end it was all for naught, the burns the victims sustained were too extensive and one by one they succumbed to their injuries.

Tears were in everyone’s eyes as their grief overtook them and grief was palpable in the room. Fen was crying onto Ace’s shoulders; her loud sobs were expressing how everyone else felt but too shocked to emote.

Rain pelted against the windows. The world outside reflecting the emotions that were within. Yet at the same time a strong sense of bitterness was felt for if the rain had started earlier, the attacked wouldn’t have ended so tragically.

“We need to say something to our people.” Eliot commented rubbing his tired red eyes with the back of his hand.

“Hmm like what? Thank you for supporting us but sorry we couldn't stop the death of an entire village that could have easily been prevented had magic not been fucked up. Which, oh yeah, is also our fault.” Quentin ranted. He stood with his back to the group to hide the tears streaming down his face, his arms wrapped tightly around himself.  

Heloise lumbered into the room, her clothes were soaking wet and dripping onto the floor. “My guards and I have spent the entire night searching the village for any clues left behind and we were only able to find one thing.”

Lifting her hand, she unfolded a damp piece of cloth that was covered in soot and burn marks. When she held it up, shouts of fury and misery echoed through the room. For though the colors were faded, it was undeniably the Lorian flag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only briefly researched rhizobacteria for a paper I had to write a couple of years ago for one of my classes. They don't actually work like that, but I thought it would be a cool thing to add.
> 
> Things are getting pretty serious [I had to restrain myself from saying "things are heating up..." i'm the worst.] I Hope you enjoyed this latest chapter! :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This is how I picture [Naomi](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjUw5KC-dDhAhVKmeAKHdvEASsQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F289708188515158661%2F&psig=AOvVaw26ZHIc10gPIW65ZgJ_wbaM&ust=1555378068688385). I realized i never gave a description for her and I'm far too lazy to go and add one for her.
> 
> Edited: 10/19/2019

The ragged sound of labored breathing cut through the quiet of the forest. Sharp snapping of fallen twigs followed behind as a hooded figure raced through the trees away from an unknown danger. Dark shadows, cast against the ominous background by the setting sun, grew longer snuffing out the light. The oily tendrils of unease reached out of these shadows and wrapped tight around its newfound prey.

Above the barren trees, flocks of crows cawed out warnings watching the strange man with piercing black eyes. A thick fog ghosted along the ground distorting the scene further with its ashy clouds. Thick branches whipped across the man’s face leaving behind bleeding gashes, but he dared not stop. For the poisonous breath of danger could be felt against the back of his neck.

Eventually he could run no more, coming to a stop he placed a hand against the rough bark trying to breathe around the stitch in his side. Sweat poured down his face, stinging when a few drops got into his eyes.

Strangely, the rough surface he’d been leaning on turned slippery and he stumbled over his feet when his hand slid off the tree. Looking down at his palms, he saw that it was covered in thick blood that was not his own. Horrorstruck he jumped back noticing that the trees around him had blood dripping out of their trunks, bleeding from deep wounds that weren’t there before. The wind picked up then, whistling though the branches adding to the illusion that the trees were screaming in pain.

After blinking hard to dispel the image, he opened his eyes and the trees were no longer on bleeding. No, this time the world around him was on fire. Pillars of blue flames eat away the forest destroying everything in its path. The intense smell of something burning was heavy in the air. The edge of the fire closed in on him, seeking out the only thing left alive in the forest.

In a complete state of panic, the man lifted his arms, moving methodically through several different gestures, and muttered a long chain of Arabic words. When nothing happened, he cursed loudly when he couldn’t feel a single drop of magic that normally coursed through his veins.

Out of the flames came a young woman who stepped close to him. Her fair blond hair and complexion were marred by the azure fire that flickered over her skin, but she wasn’t screaming. Instead she stared at the man with a cold expression and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “How could you do this to me Quentin? I trusted you…you said you had a plan.” A ball of fire shot out of her palm and hit a tree just behind Quentin, shattering it into a million splinters.

“Al-Alice…I did! I’m-I’m sorry I didn’t mean for you to die.” He begged her to listen to him, but she kept sending more spells of destruction toward him, ones that he narrowly avoided.

Sneering at the cowering man, Alice growled, “Of course, you didn’t. You never mean anything. Do you even love me?”

“Yes! I did! I do…I-I—” Quentin tried to place a hand on her shoulder, but touching her skin was like placing a hand on a sizzling stove top and he jerked back.

Alice stared horrified at the place where Quentin had touched her and started screaming that blood curdling scream that had haunted his memories. Once again, he could do nothing but watch as her skin turned to black and she slowly disintegrated into a pile of ash.

One by one everyone Quentin had ever cared about stepped out of the fires and fell victim to the same tortuous death. Before they died, they shouted vile accusations at him blaming him for all the problems in Fillory. Even little Thaddeus came out of the fire crying that Quentin wanted him to die and that’s why he wasn’t trying to save them all.

Just when he thought it was over the flames parted, and Eliot raced toward him wrapping his arms around Quentin. “Q what’s going on!?” Eliot cried out. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything El!” Quentin sobbed. He didn’t understand what was going on, but he desperately wanted it to come to an end. He latched his hands around Eliot’s pleading with the older man. “Please you have to believe me.”

Eliot dropped his hands with a yelp of pain and watched as they caught on fire like everything else in the hellish landscape. Eliot’s agonizing shouts of pain tore at Quentin’s heart and soul. “Quentin!! HELP ME!!!” Eliot begged as the fire consuming his entire body.

Quentin tried to help but he was frozen in place, paralyzed, and forced to watch as the man he cared about die an excruciating death. Like the wax from a candle, Eliot’s flesh gruesomely melted from his body until all that was left was his skeleton standing in his place.

“ELIOT!!!” Quentin sobbed out falling to his knees clutching at his chest. The fire started closing in on Quentin, the intense heat surmounting. The skeleton came to life and ashen ghosts rose from the ground tugging him into the fire screaming for him to burn.

“QUENTIN!!”

With a gasp Quentin woke up with a start, wildly glancing around as the blurry image of Eliot’s room came into focus. “Q,” Eliot breathed hovering over him in concern.

The younger magician had been thrashing about screaming in his sleep for the last eight minutes. Eliot had to resort to a slight shocking spell when nothing else could get the man to wake up. “Fuck, you were crying in your sleep Q.”

Quentin lifted a trembling hand to his face and wiped away the tears still falling from him his blood shot eyes. Wracked with incoherent sobs, Quentin broke down. Eliot wrapped his arms around Quentin, which made him feel simultaneously better and worse. ‘ _Fuck he’s definitely going to leave me now. Why would anyone want to be with someone who can barely keep it together?_ ’

Eliot distress rose when Quentin melt down begun climbing toward hysterics as he gasped for breath in between crippling sobs. “Shhh shh.”

“F-f-ire.” Every time Quentin closed his eyes, he could still see the rising fire’s burning behind his eyelids.

Putting two and two together, Eliot realized that Quentin must have had another nightmare about the blue flames that Alice fell victim to. He’d been having them ever since the tragic attack on the village that killed hundreds of innocent people. Spending most nights with Eliot, the company helped keep the nightmares at bay but lately they’ve been increasing.

Quentin could barely sleep through the night without having a nightmare, unable to go back to sleep after witnessing the gruesome imagery his mind made up. In one weeks’ time it would also be the sixth month anniversary since Alice’s death. A date which had been weighing heavily on Quentin’s mind only adding to the sleep deprivation.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eliot brushed away a strand of sweat soaked hair that clung to Quentin’s face.

“N-no.” Quentin said miserably his voice hoarse from screaming. Eliot reached for the cup of water they kept on the night stand specifically for this reason.

Eliot desperately wanted ease the disconsolate expression off his boyfriend’s face. “What can I do Q?”

“Just-Just stay with me.” Quentin could barely look at Eliot, fearful that that his face would start melting like his nightmare.

Wrapping his arms around the quivering man, Eliot placed a gentle kiss on Quentin’s lips. “I’m not going anywhere.” After sending a gentle cleaning spell over Quentin’s clammy skin and the sweat soaked sheets, Eliot laid them back down curling Quentin to his side. Quentin pressed his face against his chest needing to hear the definite proof that his friend was still alive. Eliot could feel Quentin’s tears soaking his shirt, but he didn’t care.

Eventually Quentin drifted off into a restless slumber, but Eliot couldn’t sleep for the remainder of the night. Every time Quentin whimpered it was like a dagger to Eliot’s heart. It killed him that he couldn’t do anything to help his tormented boyfriend. Eliot was sure that if he didn’t already know about the nightmares, Quentin would have suffered through them alone pretending that everything was all right.

Gradually the sun begun to rise, and light filtered though the room as the morning arrived. Eliot was running his hand through Quentin’s hair gently when Quentin began stirring. “Hey,” he whispered to the younger magician.

“Hi.” Quentin didn’t want to move but knew they had a lot to do that day. With a heavy sigh, the two men got up and got ready in silence, both still reeling from the night’s drama.

Unsurprisingly, they were the last to arrive at the offices for the morning meeting. One corner of the main area had been transformed into war central with maps and notes taped to the wall covered in pen marks.

The recent attack only affirmed the seriousness of the war and all their focus was turned to developing battle tactics that would lead them to victory in the upcoming battles. The tension in the room was high and they were all stressed that another attack could happen under their noses.

Eliot walked over to the breakfast table and made two cups of tea for him and Quentin. He handed Quentin his cup, then sat on the couch where Quentin leaned heavily against Eliot as they drank the minty tea.

“Where’s Calix?” Quentin asked curiously; the man was never late to these meetings.

“I sent him on a little errand. He should be back soon.” Eliot reassured him, then tuned in to the ongoing conversation. 

“Have you found any more information about Naomi’s past?” Willow asked Margo, they had all become enchanted with the child since she had been rescued and brought to Whitespire.

Rafe took a bit of the banana he’d been snacking on and shared the piece with Abigail. “No one we’ve asked has heard of her. Her parents probably perished in the village. It was a very close-knit group and they rarely communicated with anyone outside of it.”

“We were only able determined that she’s around six or seven years old.” Heloise stood by the maps, pinning red flags around Fillory marking promising battle grounds.

“How is she doing?” Fen enquired concerned for her future pupil.

“She’s doing better than expected. Her lungs have finally healed from breathing in all the smoke, but she’s temporarily confined to a wheelchair until her ribs and legs heal.” Margo had made time to visit the little girl in the infirmary every day and the two formed a close bond. “Now, how are we going to beat those motherfuckers in war.”

“It’s going to be tricky because there are just way too many fucking variables at play here. We have no clue when they are going to attack next nor do we know how big their armies actually are.” Ace explained flipping through a few books on battle strategies.

Before he was exiled, he often observed the elders of his old tribe plan battle strategies against the rival nymphs. However, those tactics were meant for stealth whereas the Lorians would be fighting with brute force.

Heloise rubbed her head, leaning heavily on a wooden chair next to her. “Fillory has a history of relying on specialized battle magicians to help fight our wars, but there is no way we can rely on magic. We are critically under prepared for this war and if we had to fight right now, we’d be laughed off the battlefield.”

Margo slapped her hands against the desk and stood up sharply, her chair falling behind her. “Then it’s a good thing we aren’t fighting right now! We have time to prepare. Sure, it’s not an ideal situation but—”

“Queen Margo look at the facts!” Heloise cried out in frustration. “We don’t have enough warriors, weapons, or time to prepare! Unless the Wellspring can be fixed tomorrow, I fear we are going to lose.” A grave silence descended over the group after her blunt proclamation.

Standing up despite Eliot’s protests, Quentin wandered over to the maps staring at them intently. “In the Fillory books, the Chatwins blocked certain pathways leading into Fillory.”

“What are you talking about Q?” Margo asked tiredly.

“Think about it—” Quentin’s sentence was interrupted with a giant yawn and a wave of lethargy swept over him. “Sorry, I was saying that-that uh. We should-should block entry…into...into.” Quentin swayed on his feet and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he fell to the floor fast asleep. Eliot had rushed over the moment Quentin started yawning and swiftly caught him mid fall.

“Oh my gods, is his he okay?” Fen screeched rushing over to check on Quentin with Rafe right behind her.

“He’s fine,” Eliot waved off their concerns as he picked up Quentin in his arms and carried him back to the couch. “He’s just asleep.”

“How the fuck is he sleeping right now?” Ace asked bewildered. Sure, they were all tired, but they were planning a goddamn war here!

Eliot kissed Quentin’s cheek and admitted sheepishly, “I might have put a little something in his drink to put him to asleep. It usually doesn’t take that long to kick in.”

“ELIOT!” Multiple people shouted at him from around the room.

“What?! It’s the only way I could get him to sleep for more than three hours without having nightmares.” Eliot defended his actions snuggling the sleeping man closer.

Rafe looked at the man who was dead asleep snoring lightly. “What did you use?” He asked with morbid curiosity also wondering if it was safe for sloths.

“I used a natural sleeping powder that comes from a Fillorian Passion flower. Calix and I read about them in the library. They are similar to the ones on earth but nearly fifty percent more potent. Don’t worry it won’t do anything dangerous to him, he just can’t have more than two doses within a week. I’ve been carefully monitoring him. That’s where Calix is right now, collecting more of the powder.”

“While that’s all very interesting, I think Quentin was on the right track. We need to block their access points into Fillory and herd them onto the battlegrounds we pick.” Margo got up and crossed the room to look at the map Quentin was studying before he fell asleep. “At least that’s what I’m extrapolating from his mumblings.”

“Actually, our borders are placed around landmarks that naturally protect Fillory which could give us an advantage. There are very few ways to get into Fillory from Loria.” Heloise circled a few of the known pathways with red and some of the lesser known was with blue.

“They managed to get in undetected before, who’s to say they won’t again?” Willow voiced her own concerns.

Fen stared out the window toward the north. “Since no one else saw them, they must have gone through the one-one-way forest. The trees must have taken their side in the upcoming war.”

“The trees?” Eliot’s eyebrows rose to his forehead. He was amazed Fillory could still surprise him even after all his time there.

Rafe joined Fen by the windows. “It’s a forest of intelligent trees. They have a long allegiance with Loria and an excessive dislike toward us.” 

“What if we, oh I don’t know…move the trees?” Margo suggested. 

“They are rooted.” Rafe turned toward the High Queen his eyes wide. 

“I meant with like an axe or something.” 

Willow whipped toward her angrily, the wind picking up around the room. “They are the last of their kind!” 

“No one is chopping down any endangered trees!” Heloise said to calm down the irate dryad. “Besides, violence against the forest would cause a civil war to break out in Fillory. Not that we aren’t already on that path with the FU Fighters,” she continued muttering under her breath. 

“Can they be reasoned with?” Ace had heard rumors of talking trees back on Earth, but never believed they were real. 

“Well they do have an ambassador,” Fen mused trying to remember what her grandfather had told her. “But no one has seen them in over a century.” 

“Right then someone needs to go talk to them and I know just the badass bitch to send.” Margo brushed off the lint from her shirt and straightened her crown. “Me.” 

Eliot smirked at her candor. “Bambi are you sure you should be going alone?” 

“They hate Fillorians, so I doubt they’d appreciate more than one person going to see them. Plus, it’ll be like my own little quest.” She winked at Eliot walking to the door to leave. 

“Margo, don’t underestimate their dislike toward us.” Heloise handed her a small dagger for protection. 

“You shouldn’t underestimate how persuasive I can be.” Calls of well wishes followed Margo out the door and she marched down the hallways planning her strategy in her head. 

She was just about to exit the castle, when the familiar sound of wheels rolling against the stone floor came from her left. Margo turned and glanced down at Naomi who was wheeling toward her in her wheelchair. “Shouldn’t you be with your tutors right now?” 

“No, I’m still sick…” She whined and fake coughed a few times. “Where are you going?” 

“I’m taking a little trip to the One-Way-Forest, no biggie.” 

“Can I go with you?” Margo was about to dismiss her request when Naomi flashed her, her big hazel puppy dog eyes. “Pleaseee.” 

Margo rolled her eyes but agreed, she figured it would do the girl some good to get out of the castle. With the help of some guards, she lifted the girl into the awaiting carriage and then placed the wheelchair in the back. The ride to the forest was anything but quiet as Naomi asked Margo a series of rapid-fire questions. 

“What’s your favorite color?” 

“Red.” Margo had regretted allowing Naomi to join her about fifty questions back. 

“What’s your favorite animal?” 

“Wolves.” 

Naomi brightened and bounced in her seat shaking the carriage. “Do you have a boyfriend?” 

Margo wrinkled her nose and scoffed. “No.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I don’t need one.” She told Naomi hoping she would remember that. 

“Oh, do you have a girlfriend then?” 

“No,” Margo groaned and crossed her legs together. “Please change the subject.” 

“Okay!” Naomi continued undeterred by Margo’s short responses. “Do you have a best friend?” 

“I have two.” At this question, Margo smiled softly thinking about to the two men that she ruled Fillory alongside of. 

“You’re not allowed to have two, that’s why it’s called a _best_ friend.” Naomi informed her, playfully glaring at Margo. 

“Do you have a best friend?” Margo asked exasperated. 

“I think I did…” Naomi trailed off trying to remember, but her life before Margo found her was one big blank spot in her memory. 

Margo couldn’t believe she asked that question and felt extremely guilty. “Once you’re better and well enough to go to school you’ll be making plenty of friends.” She placed her hand over Naomi’s smaller tan ones. “But until then I’ll be your friend. How’s that?” 

“No.” Naomi shook her head her tousling her thick brown curls. “You’re too old to be my friend.”

“Excuse you,” Margo exclaimed offended. “I’m only twenty-four.” 

“Exactly that’s eight years older than me! You’re practically ancient.” Naomi whined giggling at Margo’s outrage. “OH, I know! You could be my older sister!” 

“I never had a sister before,” Margo mused softly.   

“Me neither! At least I don’t think I did…” Naomi looked down at her hands that were clenched into a tight fist. “Margo will I ever remember?” 

“I don’t know Naomi, sometimes…” Margo lifted the small girl and placed her onto her lap. She wasn’t sure how to comfort the her, so she told her a different truth. “Sometimes it’s better not remembering.” Naomi remained silent for the rest of the trip staring out the window leaning back against Margo’s chest. 

When they arrived at the edge of the One-Way-Forest, Margo installed Naomi into her chair and the two traveled down the small path toward the trees. Stopping ten feet from the forest, Margo shouted in hopes of someone listening. “Greetings! I am Margo, High Queen of Fillory.” 

Out stepped a tall glowering man with moss growing from the side of his face. “You’re a dryad.” Margo recognized his species with shock, she had no idea dryads could be male. 

“You know about dryads?” The dryad cocked his head scanning the faces of Margo and Naomi. 

“We have a dryad on our S.A.F.E., I’m familiar with your kind.” 

He sneered crossing his arms over his chest. “Then you’re either rather brave or very stupid to come here…I’m thinking the latter.” 

Margo had to bite her tongue to keep from retorting. “Look I know you don’t like us.” 

“The rules of Fillory have a long history of arboreal disrespect.” 

“Yeah okay,” Margo held her hands up and sent him a persuasive grin. “Look it’s a new day we are a kinder gentler Fillory.” 

The dryad arched his eyebrow and more moss grew from his head. “I’ve heard talk that you are raging a war against Loria, how is that gentle?” 

“Hey!” Margo shouted. “You don’t know the full story about what they have done to us.” 

“You’re right and I don’t care.” The dryad was growing tired of her incessant chatter. “If it was all that important why didn’t the King come here himself. Rather then sending a female and a small crippled child.” 

“Excuse you asshole! Naomi is NOT crippled, and I am Fillory’s one and only High Queen.” Margo stood tall placing her hands on her hips. In her wheelchair, Naomi was doing her best to emulate Margo’s stance glaring at the dryad. 

“Is that supposed to impress me? Passage has been denied. Good day.” The dryad turned and disappeared within the forest. 

Naomi stuck her tongue out and blew raspberries at his retreating back. “What a big meanie.” 

“Dammit.” Margo muttered angrily huffing. “Yeah he’s a real douche bag.” She gripped the handles of Naomi’s wheelchair and turned them around. 

Naomi leaned her head on the back of her chair and looked up at Margo. “What’s a douche bag?” 

“They won’t take you seriously if you don’t take _yourself_ seriously.” A stranger called out to them stepping out from behind the trees. The newcomer, a female centaur, had a brown coat of fur with white flecks in it. Her chest was covered with a armor made of leather and a great broad sword was strapped to her waist. The sides of her brown hair were shaved closely, and the top was done up in an elaborate braid. 

“Who the fu—dge are you?” This time Margo remembered to censor herself in front of Naomi. “I take myself very seriously I’ll have you know.” She was tired of people questioning her abilities. 

“What are you trying to do?” The centaur probed ignoring Margo’s comment. She listened intently as Margo explained vaguely that they needed the One-Way Forest to deny the Lorians passage into Fillory. 

“Your strategy is correct, but **you** wouldn’t be able to get them to cooperate with you.” 

“Why the hell not?” Margo shouted stepping around Naomi gearing for a fight. 

“Like I said, there’s great unrest in you Queen Margo. Your aura needs some major realignment.” The centaur studied the space around Margo’s body. 

“How do I ‘realign’ my aura then?” She asked sarcastically fingering the handle of the blade she had strapped to her hip. 

“Time will tell…” The mysterious woman looked toward the sky. 

“Who are you?” Naomi asked unable to contain her questions. 

“I’m Tulsi young one.” Tulsi reached down and gently shook Naomi’s hand. 

“Did you know that a bunch of mean people are coming to fight with us. They burnt down my home.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss, but that is why I’m here. I’ve come to warn you.” Tulsi straightened up and send Margo a serious look. “The Lorians have a great army with numbers up in the thousands. Are you ready for that?” 

“Of course we are.” Margo lied. 

Tulsi gave her a skeptical look and closed her eyes sighing. “Alright let’s go.” Without warning she turned and began trotting away. Naomi and Margo glanced at each other baffled by Tulsi’s abrupt command. 

“What?” They remarked at the same time. 

Looking over her shoulder, Tulsi sent them a smug smile. “I’m going to help you win this war.” She raced off leaving behind a cloud of dust she kicked up. Margo cursed and ran back to the carriage pushing Naomi ahead of her.

“Tulsi!” Heloise called out greeting her long-time friend once they arrived back at the castle. Tulsi had to duck her head down to fit through the doorway of the office. 

“You could have mentioned you knew Heloise.” Margo muttered angrily passing the woman and flopping down onto a couch Naomi following closely behind in her wheelchair. 

Tulsi’s bolstering laugh filled the large room. “Where’s the fun in that?” 

“Margo how did it go with the One-Way-Forest? Did you meet their ambassador?” Quentin asked looking much more rested than before. 

“Well sleeping beauty, it was shit. The ambassador is a dryad, a male dryad, and the ass hated me.” Margo replied miserably helping Naomi out of her chair and shifted her onto her lap. 

“It’s a good thing I didn’t go along then,” Willow remarked. “The males of my species are particularly territorial against other dryads.” 

Around her plans were formed with the help of Tulsi’s vast knowledge of battle tactics. However, Margo was feeling dejected and for the first time in a while she begun to second guess herself and her place in Fillory. Was she the right person to be Fillory’s High Queen? 

Next to her Eliot was sitting with Quentin practically glued to his side, but he quickly noticed her blackening mood. He leaned toward her and asked, “Bambi, are you okay?” 

She smiled stiffly with tight lips. “I’m fine, I just need to go get some air.” Margo gently lifted Naomi off her lap and slipped out of the office alone heading toward the nearest balcony. 

Gripping onto the balcony’s railing, she tried to take deep relaxing breaths to calm her panic. The problem was that this war was no longer about her. The moment that woman died in her arms, it became bigger than the hurt and disrespect she received from Prince Ess. Similarly, Naomi motivated her every battle strategy. She would win the war for them, for the hundreds of people who died, and for all the people who couldn’t defend themselves.

She took a deep breath, the weight of those commitments bared heavily down on her shoulders. Margo couldn’t afford to fail them, but the fear that she would had gradually consumed her.

“Are you okay?” Margo jumped not expecting company and turned her head to see Heloise and Tulsi had joined her on the balcony.

Turning back around, Margo subtly wiped the tears from her face. “Of course I am.”

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Tulsi and Heloise nod toward each other but before she could speak up Heloise distracted her. “Naomi wasn’t feeling good, so we took her to a guest room to lay down.”

“What?! Is she okay? Why didn’t you tell me that first?! Take me to her now.” Margo demanded. Naomi seemed fine only minutes ago, but perhaps the short journey was too much for her immune system to handle. Concern gripped her heart and she needed to see the child for herself.

The two other woman led her down a dusty hallway and entered a small door. Inside was completely bare except for a simple mirror placed in the middle of the room.

“What the fuck?” Margo stepped into the room glaring at Heloise and Tulsi. “What is going on!?” Rather then respond, together they pushed Margo into the mirror’s surface which rippled as it sucked the screaming Queen into its hidden depths.

“Are you sure this was the best idea?” Heloise bit her lips nervously. She feared this course of action would be too extreme.

“Yes. Have I ever steered you wrong?” Tulsi remarked confidently settling against the wall watching the mirror.

“No but—”

“Eloise trust me, this is going to work.”

Heloise sighed and closed the door behind her. “It better, for all of our sakes.”

Together they stared into the mirror, the surface now cloudy and grey, hoping that Margo would be strong enough for what she was about to endure.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's rant [feel free to ignore]: Hi guys! I'm sooo sorry it took so long to post the next chapter. I was having a mix of writers block/lack of motivation to write this story. I've been putting unnecessary pressure on myself which made this not fun to write. But I sorted through my shit and realized that at the end of the day, although I LOVE each and everyone of you who has stuck with this story, I need to write for myself or else I'll never be happy with my work.
> 
> That being said, this chapter was particularly hard to write because I love Margo's character and really wanted to do her justice. I personally and almost the exact opposite of Margo so it made writing her character kinda difficult. I hope I didn't stray too far off.
> 
> Rant over, if you actually read all that wow props to you, and without further ado. ENJOY! :D
> 
> Edited: 10/20/2019

The journey through the mirror felt like being plunged into an frozen lake. The icy sensation jolted her nerves, striking straight to her core freezing her very bones. Margo tried to scream but no noise came out. Quicker than she had ever thought possible, the cold turned into an fiery heat hot that burned every inch of her being. Suspended in an empty void Margo, endured the unending torture praying to anyone that would listen that it would end soon. Her breathing became shallow and her movements lethargic. Too tired to fight she gave into the pain fell into the darkness of her mind.

It could have been hours or weeks later when Margo woke up once more. She ended up in a heap on the dusty floor of an empty room which looked exactly like the one she just left. The biggest difference was this room didn’t have any windows or doors. She looked behind her, but the mirror had vanished from sight. The only light came from the lit torches suspended meters above her head.

“Fuck.” Margo pushed herself to her feet weary. Her entire body ached with pain like she had just fallen down a mountain, got run over by a semi, set on fire, and then stabbed over and over.

Slowly she walked around the entire room and studied the walls closely trying to find a hidden door or way to escape. The grey stones held fast placed, so closely together a piece of paper couldn’t slip through. It appeared she was well and truly trapped.

“Okay very funny guys let me out now!” Screaming into the silence, Margo fumed that Heloise and Tulsi tricked her into this prison. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. “I’m going to kill them when I get out of here. I’m going to charge them with treason then shove my fist down their throats and rip out their hearts,” she growled maliciously.

“Well that’s extreme.” The whispers of a hundred voices speaking as one hummed through the room as something or someone spoke to her.

Margo spun around but there was no one else in the room. “Who’s there?? Show yourself!” She kept her back to the walls wary of invisible attackers.

“I see you found my mirror.” The air swirled around her, shimmering with ancient magic that weighed heavily on her. Her own magic recoiling from the strange presence. 

Crossing her arms over her chest she glared at the walls. “Yeah but it wasn’t exactly my idea.  
Disjointed laughter echoed around the room, simultaneously ringing with the playfulness of child’s giggle and the gravely tones of an older man. “Margo through the looking glass. That has a nice ring to it don’t you think.” The voices intoned together sending chills down Margo’s spine.

Tired of the colossal mind fuck, Margo tried to negotiate with the mystical being. “Why don’t you just let me out and we’ll call it even.” There wasn’t time for her to deal with this, Fillory needed her. Right?

“Very well. You just have to answer one question.”

“Fine,” she agreed impatiently.

The air stilled and could feel the strange magic evaluating her. “Who are you?”

Scoffing Margo replied, “What the fuck do you mean who am I? I’m Margo Hanson, High Queen of Fillory. Any of this ring a bell?” She rolled her eyes tapping her heels irritably.

“Who are you?” The voices repeated.

“Come on I just told you?!”

The invisible being’s tone was one of parental disappointment, as though Margo was a disobedient child throwing a fit. “Who are you Margo?”

“I’m not playing this fucking game anymore.” Margo turned away and begun to strategize another way to get herself out of the mirror.

The voices didn’t say anything else and slowly the magical residue they left behind dissipated back through the walls. The room grew colder and still leaving Margo alone once more.

She walked around the room, hoping there was something she didn’t see the first time but there was still nothing. Tilting her head upward, Margo tried to see where the room ended but all she could see was darkness. Taking off her shoes, she gripped onto the small protrusions in the stone wall and attempted to climb up it.

After several attempts and a plethora of cuts and bruises she gave up. Leaning with her back against the wall, Margo sat and waited and waited and waited.

“What do you want me to say?” Margo ranted. She didn’t understand what the mirror wanted from her; she was answering the damn question. “Do you want me to share some of my inner demons, well let me just tell you you’re going to be very disappointed. I know exactly who I am.”

She leaned her head back, banging it against the wall angrily. “I can wait this out. You’ll have to let me out eventually!” Margo sighed and picked at the beads stitched into her skirt. Time past, but there was no way to tell exactly how much.

“Fuck this let me out!!!” She marched up and began slashing at the wall with the dagger she had in her boot. Sparks flew out as the metal struck the stone. Every second she wasted there, the more her country was in danger without her.

“Okay fine I’ll play your game.” Margo threw the dagger across the room. “I’m Margo, I’m a raging bitch who most people hate. I had a good childhood but didn’t have many friends because I pushed everyone away. Eliot was the first person I ever got close to, and then Quentin came along and he too came pretty close. But now they’re together and I’m alone again.” Still there was nothing but silence, of-fucking-course.

“What more could you possibly want from me?!” Margo screamed. Her voice grew hoarse the louder she shouted. “Do you want me to tell you that I’m terrified out of my motherfucking mind? Or that most days I regret going to Fillory and if we lose the war, I hope to god that I die in the battle so I don’t become the next plaything of that jackass prince.

“How about the fact that sometimes I think Naomi would have been better off perishing in the fire. That way she could still be with her parents and not have to deal with me as the closest thing to a guardian.” Angry tears welled up in Margo’s eyes, her nails digging into her palms clutched into fists.

Margo laughed manically grabbing fistfuls of hair that tangled between her fingers. “Or how about the fact that I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Because why wouldn’t the tree people take me seriously when I don’t even take myself seriously anymore.”

Her efforts felt pointless and Margo screamed punching the walls while ignoring the blood dripping from her knuckles. Falling to her feet she cried out to the empty room. “What do you want from me!?”

“Who are you Margo?” The voices returned barely above a whisper.

Margo wrapped her arms around her stomach and bawled. “I don’t fucking know!” Hopelessly she broke down as the dam of stress and turmoil she had been repressing finally broke lose.

It started so softly that Margo had almost missed it, but there was no way to miss the earthquake like trembling that shook the walls of the room only moments later. Dust fell from the ceiling above and the foundation of the room was in danger as the stones ground together struggling to stay in place.

Amidst the collapsing room, a simple wooden door appeared in front of Margo. Dodging the falling stones that rained down around her, she raced toward the door. After only a moment’s hesitation, she pulled herself together, wiped the tears from her face, and cautiously walked through the door.

Blinking rapidly from the bright light that suddenly assaulted her eyes, Margo thought for a second she had traveled to the Fillorian woods just outside the castle. A line of pine trees greeted her boarding a dirt pathway etched into the ground. Margo followed the trail lined with smooth white stones deeper into the woods. It led her to a wooden cottage in the center of a small clearing. The babbling trickle of a water could be heard over the chirps of the birds.

“Hello Margo.”

Margo whirled around so fast she nearly got whiplash. Standing in the doorway of the cottage was the small figure of a young girl she was quite attached to. “Naomi?”

The Naomi lookalike wrinkled her forehead as she looked down at her body. “Huh. Is that who I look like to you? I would have thought I’d take on Eliot’s appearance,” she muttered to herself before shrugging her slight shoulders. “Just call me Silver.”

“Where am I?” Margo asked tiredly. The emotional turmoil she had endured took a toll on her both mentally and physically. She would later learn she was in that room for nearly seventeen hours.

“As I mentioned before, you have entered my mirror which launched you on your quest to find yourself.” Silver tugged onto Margo’s hand and pulled her into the cozy house.

“Wonderful well, oh would you look at that,” Margo said facetiously pinching her skin. “Yes, I have found myself thank god for that. Can I go back now?"

Silver looked over her shoulder sending Margo an unimpressed glance. Pushing Margo onto the bed, the mirror spirit tucked in the exhausted woman.

The comforting weight of the blanket landed over Margo swathing her in a cloud of warmth. With every blink, her eyelids felt heavier until she couldn’t keep them open. A giant yawn erupted from her mouth and with words slurring she attempted to speak. “Okay whatever, what do I need to do to get back.”

Patting Margo’s cheek, Silver dimmed the lights with a wave of her hand. “We’ll get to that in the morning, you need to rest Margo. Go to sleep and we’ll talk in the morning.” After one final look at the sleeping queen, the mirror spirit disappeared from the room.

The morning arrived much too quickly and before she knew it, Silver had flipped the mattress dumping her onto the floor. “Fuck! Seriously?!” Margo wanted to pound her fists on the ground like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“Rise and shine! We have work to do.” Silver commanded, her stern tone sounded out of place coming from a six-year old’s body.

Silver graciously allowed Margo a few minutes to get ready and change into some lighter garments. Still yawning, she followed Silver out the door and toward the river she had noticed before.

“We’ll start with something simple. All you have to do is cross the river.” Silver pointed to the small stream with stepping stones spanning the width every three feet or so. The water was about two feet deep but moved rapidly causing the stones to become slippery.

Margo carefully stepped onto the first stone and jumped to the next with ease. She positioned herself to leap to the next one, when great lob of mud smacked the side of her face. Surprised she slipped and tumbled into the cool river.

“The fuck?!” She spluttered coughing up water.

Silver clutched her stomach laughing hard wiping the tears from her eyes. “You should have seen your face!” If looks could kill, Silver would have been a gory pile of bones and blood. “What? I didn’t say it would be easy,” she said smirking.

Dragging herself out of the river Margo tried again and again...and again.  “Enough!” She had lost count of the times she had fallen into the river, not getting further than three stones.

“Okay fine, we’ll move on.” Silver handed Margo a large, and surprisingly heavy, machete and sauntered off expecting Margo to follow.

“And what the hell am I supposed to do with this?” Margo studied the weapon she held out at arms-length. The blade was old and had dulled over time.

“You’re going to get us something to eat,” Silver said cryptically. Now that she mentioned it, Margo realized she was starving. It was about midafternoon and all she had in her stomach was the water from the river she had ingested accidentally. Silver snapped her fingers and shoots of bamboo sprung from the ground towering high above their heads.

Margo’s eyes darted between the machete and the bamboo her eyebrows raised. “Que?”

Sighing as though it was Margo’s fault for being so dense, Silver carefully explained the task. “In the center of the field is a beautiful lobster dish. Get it in twenty minutes and you can feast like the Queen you claim you are. If you don’t, you’ll be eating cockroaches.”

For a brief moment, Margo debated on if it was worth it or if she’d rather run the blade into Silver’s chest. It was only the fact that she still looked like Naomi that stopped her from her homicidal thoughts. Reluctantly Margo adjusted her grip on the machete and begun cutting through the thick bamboo.

Walls and walls of bamboo was all she could see. Margo poured every ounce of hurt, frustration, and anger into every blow. Her palms developed blisters from her tight grip, and she knew that her shoulders would be screaming at her in the morning.

However, the field was wider than she had expected, and Margo had only succeeded in making it a quarter way to the center when Silver’s alarm blared through the air. Faced with the choice of starving or eating a bowl of cockroaches, Margo pinched her nose and choked back a mouthful of bugs. She cursed under her breath and watched hatefully as Silver moaned spitefully as she enjoyed Margo’s lobster.

In between other smaller tasks Silver had set for her, Margo’s routine alternated between trying to cross that damn river and her failed attempts getting through the bamboo field. It was day five of being covered in mud and watching Silver eat decadent foods, all Margo’s favorites, when she finally snapped.

Margo slammed the machete down onto Silver’s plate, scattering the shrimp and scallop linguine to the ground. “I’m tired of this karate kid bullshit. Teach me or let me go.”

A low chuckle filled the silence. Silver slowly lifted her head and stared at the woman across from her. “Finally.” A flash of silver was all Margo saw when she reflexively dodged the blade that would have beheaded her.  Before she had time to recover, Silver’s sword sliced through the air and Margo just managed to block her vicious swing.

“See this method works, Jackie Chan knew his shit,” Silver told Margo with a shit eating grin on her face.

Breathing hard, Margo scoffed but stood tall proud of her efforts so far. She brought that confidence with her into training the next few days. While crossing the river she soon was able to split her attention between keeping balanced on the wet stones and sensing when the globs of mud were coming at her. She still hadn’t managed to cross the river but every day she had gone one stone closer.

As for the seemly endless field of bamboo, Margo had found a stone and manually sharped the blade until it was sharp enough to cut through the field. Even in her time off, she practiced with the machete learning which swings were more effective and how to maximize the damage. After another couple of weeks, she was finally able to enjoy a delicious meal that wasn’t bugs and stayed dry the entire day.

The mirror spirt had noted Margo’s great progress and decided to deem her worthy enough to continue onto the next step. Which, though not glamorous, would start Margo on the way to becoming a fierce warrior.

With great patience, Silver walked Margo through the beginnings of sword fighting. They began with the basics and over the course of several months Margo grew to become a skilled swords woman. It took intense concentration and focus, and some days it felt like for ever step forward Margo took eight steps back.

One particular night, Margo sat by the fireplace inside the cottage wishing she was back home. Silver walked over and silently placed her arms around Margo and comforted her as she broke down. Her tears were cathartic, and Margo grieved for the person she thought she would become.

Fillory was never part of her dream, it was Quentin’s. They all knew that but chose to follow him anyway. It was hard, really fucking hard to stay when unlike Eliot, she could leave anytime she wanted. However, something kept whispering in the back of her head to stay and she listened because now Fillory was home. She too had read the books growing up, but she didn’t fall in love with the beautiful world until she was made Queen. Loving Fillory meant she would have to accept the good and the bad parts of her kingdom, and now she believed she could do that.

Silver used conjured up automated dummies to fight Margo and slowly increased the number the better Margo got. The first time she had fought multiple opponents, Margo lost miserably and had bandages on nearly every part of her body. Some of those injuries had scarred, marring her nearly perfect skin but she wore them with pride. Every scar meant another step closer to being able to defend not only her country but herself.

It was a long quest, but the day finally arrived came when Silver couldn’t teach Margo anymore. “There’s only one last task left. You have to fight me.” The spirit’s form stretched out of Naomi’s figure and morphed into an an exact clone of Margo.

“If this is your biggest enemy is yourself than what a fucking cliché,” Margo commented amused. However, the mirth ended abruptly as her clone burst into action attacking Margo moving faster than humanly possible.

Swords clashed in the air, neither woman giving less than their all. Sweat poured down Margo’s face as she fought harder than ever before. She trusted her instincts just as much as her skills, guiding her with every block and counter attack.

In one swift motion, Silver had managed to disarm Margo and her sword went flying away. A flash of disappointment flickered across Silver’s eyes, but all was not over. Thinking on her feet Margo ducked down and side kicked Silver’s feet throwing her off balance. She then dove for her sword and managed to rise to her feet crashing her sword down onto Silver. Her opponent was hard-pressed to counter the vicious attack.

Blow by blow rained down upon Silver until finally, the moment had come. Margo saw her golden opportunity and with some clever maneuvering, it was her that disarmed Silver. The two women stared down the blade that was held up against Silver’s throat. Silver closed her eyes and when she opened them, they were the color of her name.

“I won?” Margo gasped in disbelief.

A smile broke out across Silver’s face as she bowed in defeat. “Congratulations.” She pulled the shocked woman into a brief hug. “I just have one final question. Who are you Margo?”

Margo stood up straighter with her head held high. “I’m Queen Margo the goddamn motherfucking Destroyer,” she replied fiercely. Though Eliot had given her the name in humor, she now felt she could own that title with pride.

Silver’s imaged blurred around the edges and her voice split into multiple voices at once. “You are indeed.”

There had been many who had traveled through her mirror before and the journey was never easy. Many who had undergone her trials, had failed and left more disjointed than when they first arrived never to be whole again. Silver knew this woman was special the moment she arrived and saw she could be capable of many great things.

With one final snap of Silver’s finger, the floor under Margo’s feet gave out and everything went black.


End file.
